I love you.

I loved you.

I hate you.

I still hate you.

I lied.

I'm breaking up with you.

I'm pregnant.

I'm gay.

I'm a lesbian.

I'm bi.

I'm trans.

I don't know.

Please hold me.

Do you feel the same?

Can we stay like this?

Will we stay together?

Do I really love you?

I don't understand.

I need help.

I'm dying.

I want to die.

Please stop.

I can't.

You hurt me.

I hurt you.

I'm sorry.

I'm not sorry.

Please take me back.

I failed.

They hurt me.

I'm not okay.

That's wrong.

You're wrong.

You're right.

I'm wrong.

This was a mistake.

I need to talk to you.

I'm angry.

I'm upset.

I'm unhappy.

I need space.

This isn't healthy, is it?

I have a right to be hurt.

I want to help.

I can't help you.

Is this really it?

Is this the end?

Whatever happened to us?

I disagree.

I want to know.

Is there a God?

Do I really matter?

Are we truly alone in the universe?

I can't go.

I can't stay.

I won't go.

I won't stay.

Please stay here.

We don't have enough money.

We lost everything.

I'm scared.

A new word. Unmetaphorable. Because of a boy. I keep trying to write poems and songs about this boy that I long for. But I can’t.. He’s too perfect to be compared to. His eyes aren’t glowing suns, they’re brighter. His skin isn’t soft like the clouds, it’s softer. When he presses his lips against mine, I don’t feel fireworks, I feel his lips. They’re better. They’re more exciting. His arms don’t wrap around me like tree branches, but they hold me just as tight. He’s too perfect. Maybe that’s why we’ve split. Why his bright eyes don’t show his love for me, but only reflect my own admiration for him. Why his lips taste less like cherries everytime we kiss. His face isn’t soft anymore he looks at me, I mean, glances at me. And my sadness, when he looks away is similar. It can’t be compared to a hole in my heart, because I feel so much more empty. When I see him hold her hands, I can’t describe the pain in my gut as being stabbed with jealousy, the tears in my eyes as an ocean behind a dam, because it feels so much worse. It’s unmetaphorable.

You make me sick, 

You make me want to vomit out my insides

And I know the feeling is mutual

Sitting there next to you

Feeling you here, feeling everything about you

I keep hoping you'll change but people like you never do

They end up being rich business owners who don't care about their employees

Cold fathers who don't love their children.

I still wonder if there's some degree of heart left in you, 

Something of you that makes you human

And not a robot. 

I've been so scared of you, 

Feeling sick to my stomach

Sitting next to you

But somehow

Some part of me

Loves you. 

And I hate that.