I've been trying to scrub out the love letter you wrote in my heart.
New wounds open above the old, scratches and scabs turn into scars that never heel.
So I tried to bath them in liquor and hide them in sin,
but I still remember that some time, 'long ago a boy told me he likes the way I sometimes cry at silly things like not being able to find my favorite ice cream.
I've tried planting things you do to annoy me over it.
like chewing your nails, snoring when you're drunk;
smelling like red wine and Marlboro cigarettes and a hint of weed;
like telling me you can't remember why you ever fell in love with me;
like "come on baby you're not shining, shine for me".
But nothing grew, Nothing but an annoyance that I sent you a text last night
to which you replied "K".
despite the fact that I said I love you.
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