Tuesday

The Next Day

Last night I undressed for bed, naked with insecurities still fighting my feelings, still hating my thoughts. Last night I wrapped up with sheets covered in regrets still fighting the person I want to be. Still hating the girl that hurt you.
Last night I closed my eyes, shutting you out.
Still fighting my words. Still hating each letter of "Goodbye".

I had poems in my heart that I couldn't choke out. The next day in the sunlight I told you those poems, each disgusting word, poorly written poetry. Titled, "I'm walking away" and "I am not strong enough for you anymore."

The next day I whispered the score of the game, because you needed a win.
So with my half-hearted grin, I whispered, at least the Dolphins won. Because maybe that would help, now that you've lost me.