Unrequited love.

There was something rather tragic about how her quivering lips tried to keep up with the empty promises stumbling out of her mouth accompanied by a breath she didn’t long to keep now or perhaps ever. Her poor heart must’ve been so tired and unappreciated working over time on a body that’s been hopelessly abandoned by the only lover it ever encountered. The only affection provided by the romantisation of her own sadness. As if it was a pool she didn’t want to drown in but rather relax her tensed muscles as life passed by and all she did was lay there. Lay in her own guilt and regret and anger. But how could one be so angry yet so non reactive, how infuriating it must be to go out of your way to anger someone and get nothing in response. All your energy given up on someone who could care less about you. That’s how her body must feel. It clenches her throat when she smokes to much. It drops her when she refuses to eat. It drills into her brain when she drowns herself in liquor. It punches her in the gut when she decides to throw up again. It cries out bloody murder when she hurts herself on purpose. Her body tries it’s best to make her see what she is doing wasn’t fair. And still it never seems to be enough. Ironic how they both don’t feel enough.

I always thought

“I can’t live without you!" was one of the most romantic confessions imaginable. Now that ive met her, I could'nt recall a sadder tale.

Romeo and Julia had nothing on the tragedy that was she and her body.