Day 1: My room turned into a ocean. I swear I found fishes and sharks swarming into my lungs. Or maybe that was the remains of you trying not to escape but desperately needing to
Day 2: You weren’t at school today and I should’ve been happy, I was more sad
Day 3: I thought I was ready to move on, then I saw you with her.
Day 4: We haven’t spoken in days now. My mind thinks its being shoved off a cliff.
Day 5: I wish it would just hit the bottom
Day 6: This will be the first weekend we dont hang out. I know you’ll be seeing her and I know you’ll be smiling without me. I’m trying hard to learn how to too
Day 7: I asked you for help on a history assignment and you replied with “Ask Amber im busy”. I texted back: “Tell Emma I said hi”
Day 8: You posted a video with her on the only social media site you have. When I saw it I erupted. I spewed lava every where, oh god its every where
Day 9: My mom made me sleep next to her on the couch. She was afraid I would try and do something like I did two years ago when another guy tore up my heart. I actually had thought about it
Day 10: I slept in your sweatshirt one last time so I can feel myself engulfed in you. I know you wanted them back so I had to feel you and smell you just once more.
Day 11: I gave you all of your stuff back and you thought I looked like a warrior but really I went home and tried getting you out of my bloodstream
Day 12: When will my eyes stop flowing?
Day 13: I snuck out with a boy and smoked weed on his couch. He talked about love and how much it hurt. I only pictured you.
Day 14: I woke up next to that same boy and I woke up screaming. The boy was worried and confused but I knew why I screamed. I imagined you laying with another girl on your couch. I ran out of his house so fast you’d think Id be better at running from you.
Day 15: It’s spring break and I’m with my best friend and your with her and I swear I can feel you tracing her spine the way you used to trace mine
Day 16: I ignored your birthday and it felt worse than the puking I did that night
Day 17: I’m treading icy water while you’re swimming away searching for warmth. I guess I just hope you’ll loop around and find your way back to the shattered, but still there, us
Day 18: I don’t remember the sound of your voice. I don’t remember the color of your eyes. I don’t remember your the taste of your lips. I can’t feel your hands on mine or on my body. I don’t remember how soft your hair is. I must forget, all of it
Day 19: No amount of screaming gets your name out of my head
Day 20: I got on a plane today and when we took off I swear I almost walked to the door and started flying
Day 21: They say it takes 21 days to break a habit but I think I just manage to fall more in love with a greedy monster
Day 22: I saw you today and wished you a happy late birthday and promised we’d watch the third Hobbit together. I’m beginning to hate myself more
Day 23: Its the end of the month maybe next month won’t be filled with thoughts of you and killing myself. I think I’m beginning to get over you
Day 25: I think I understand now. When you first told me you loved me your mouth curled up on the edges, two days before you left when I gave my bare self to you your mouth was a straight line as you muttered “love you”
Day 26: If you’re trying to kill me it’s working
Day 27: I woke up this morning to my blankets and pillows piled in a corner in my room. It’s something a ghost would do to make his presence known. I’m haunting myself, or maybe its the ghost of us taking over my body
Day 28: It’s almost been a month since you told me it was never me. I almost texted you happy easter but I saw those text messages we last sent and just got angry
Day 29: I hate that you act like you didnt break my heart. I hate that you think I’m fine that I’m not writing a shit poem about your shit personality
Day 30: Thirty days since you’ve wanted me. Thirty days since I told you I love you. Thirty days since you’ve slipped from my fingers. I tried catching you. You’ve been gone far too long. Thirty days is too long
Day 31: I had a nightmare last night about you. You told me you loved me and kissed my forehead. I woke up breathing heavily and shaking. I want you out of my life
Day 32: Running on no sleep isn’t fun
Day 33: I’ve been awake for over 50 hours in fear that I’ll see you in my dreams again. I cant risk that. It hurts so much. Get out of my head
Day 34: My mother told me that love will do this. That its cruel and torturous and breaks you into such little pieces not even she can pick them all up. You know where they all are, please come back and pick them up
Day 35: I talked to another guy last night we stayed up late and he asked me questions about you. We were sober so it wasn’t easy spitting up vowels and similies and euphemisms explaining the empty feeling in my chest after you left
Day 36: Fuck if i stopped seeing you everyday I swear I’d be over you.
Day 37: My knee didnt touch your leg like it used it I promise I didnt do that fuck
Day 38: You told me that the wrinkles on my leg bothered you when I sat down. That’s not what you said when we were trying not to get caught in the back of your car
Day 39: You told me you’d take me to prom and in two days it’ll just be another day you promised to spend with me. It’s funny how our plans turned to dust in a matter of seconds after cleaning
Day 40: The thunderstorm of us was inside of you and maybe that’s why it felt so close. I keep counting the seconds between the boom and light hoping you arent moving away but I fear that you are already letting others feel your storm. The plants you grew are dying, maybe you should come back to water them
Day 41: Ten days since its been a month since you left. I cried at prom because all I could look for in the crowd was you.
Day 42: I got so drunk all I could see was your face. The guy I fucked kept telling me his name wasn’t yours. I cant even scream and cry anymore, I’m burnt out. You’re all I still think about despite your efforts to continue to push me away
Day 43: I should be getting high today but if I do I’ll just write more shitty poems and think more about a shitty guy who will never care
Day 44: I think I’m trying to gain feelings for someone else because it’ll make moving on from you easier. I’m afraid to write that it hasn’t
Day 45: You traced my leg like you used to. It was like dandelion tea. It made my insides fill with happiness, you’re my yellow paint.
Day 46: Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would put happiness inside him. He would consume it everyday in the hopes that it would bring his sadness to rest despite the fact that it could kill him first. I guess you were my yellow paint, emphasis on the were. See, I’m not going to write about you anymore, because when I write you down I’m under the impression that you’ll stay with the words but you don’t. This is the last sentence I’ll ever write about you
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