I will never talk to you again or touch you again
and that is okay because each are equally painful 
but sometimes I wonder if they would hurt a little less than this pulsing ache in my heart
and clenched jaws in your presence.

for you have reignited something inside of me and I can’t help but hate you for it
so please don’t drunkenly text me
because even if its meaningless chatter
the absence of it in the weeks to follow echoes a familiar pain through me
as we recommence our little game
where we pretend that we haven’t spent moments together
which were tender enough to soften the hardness inside of me

and I know, the fucked up part is that we were never going to work
and yet now I cannot help but cry a little when I think of what we had
and the way that we will never have it again 
and so I am sad and cold
and it is so tempting to hide behind bones and scars and never feel the weight
of a thousand broken heartbeats reverberating through me as my tears draw my failures
but I am still painfully loyal to something that doesn’t exist  
so trust me to make a fuckery of something that could have been wonderful.
I would I would I would.

no one ever told me that every kiss I would see
would feel like I’m touching your lips all over again 
and no one told me  that every kiss would punch me in the gut and instantaneous tears would collect in my swollen eyes
don’t you dare tell me heartbreak is beautiful.

—  we won’t talk again and that hurts a little bit