You were a tragedy.
You were my own personal tragedy.
You were the fire that brought my heart into flames and you were the storm that drowned me until I couldn’t breathe anymore. You were the tears that made their way from my eyes down to my mouth. You were the taste.
You were the salty taste of my tears that managed to stick onto my taste buds for God knows how long, and they were faint reminders of how you broke me.
And no one even knew.
You held weapons and killed me with them, then you opened your mouth and yelled for help.
You were a collection of my headaches and my heartaches. You made me squint my eyes in hopes of finding an answer that may have been hiding, but I found none, because squinting my eyes actually made things blurry.
You were blurry.
YOU WERE CLEAR
Because you were clear about not liking me at all.
And just like any other tragedies, this will end. And I will forget.
And you will remain a scar
AND I WILL HEAL.