Tuesday, early.

There’s always something eating at my bones, the locks been picked and someones come home.

Someone you used to know.

Take leaf out off someone you used to be, treat her like shit and return to your old body, because if anything you’re only coming clean, you’re not what she wants, she’s not what you need.

Roll over into empty sheets, there will finally be space for you to get a nights sleep, without the endless ache the edge of the bed makes.

But you’re fine with it, whats it matter, as long as she’s fine then its fine and you can just bottle your anger, deep down in a chamber that mourns it’s old laughter, if my spine can take it, then I’ll carry on like a soldier.

I wander if it’s selfish, but I’m tired of being selfless and giving all i have until im looking at her headless and wandering if she gives a shit.

You rise, because you can’t sleep, start pacing the room and grinding your teeth, you miss her but she always has to leave.

Throw on a bright eyes record and make sure the doors locked, lie on the couch and pretend that the worlds stopped and just try to forget you even exist.