I’m lying in this bed next to them. Their blue eyes, blond hair, their scent. I take it all in.

            I’ve never felt more at home.

            Our relationship wasn’t anything too special, but it was a flame nonetheless. Late nights staying up talking about anything, sweet gestures in the day to show how perfect we were together.

            Perfect.

            No.

            Between the cuddles, hugs, and kisses, there were arguments. Feelings of inadequacy plagued me; I felt like I wasn’t good enough. They must’ve felt I didn’t love them and that I wasn’t mature, not a person who thinks. Arguments always ended with one telling the other to love them, and the other saying they will.

            I love you.

            Do you?

            All the times I’ve gone to them for comfort and lust. Did I love them? Did they love me? Maybe it was all lust and I was blinded by everything that told me that love and lust were all the same. We were just two lonely people who needed someone to feel less lonely with until we were okay.

            And then they found themself.

            And I lost myself.

            Now I lie in the same bed, with the same person. We are together in lust, not love. I am lost and they are gone. I should’ve flown away but my wings failed me and now I’ve fallen down into the abyss with no turning back. I will never learn my lesson and this is pain. I’m in pain and I want nothing more than to break from them and let myself fly too close to the sun so my tears will dry.

            I toss and turn with them and it’s beautiful for a fleeting moment and then I’m left in the wake of regrets. I don’t want feelings, I don’t want this person in this same bed, I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate

            I hate me.

            I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you. He knows the dirty secrets that I keep, but does he know it’s killing me? You watch me bleed until I can’t breathe. But you do it to me so well — hypnotic, taking over me. You make me feel like someone else and I don’t want to come back down. Just one more hit and then we’re through ’cause your love’s a fucking drag. You’re worse than nicotine — taking, pretending you’re nothing but giving. Your love only gets me abused.

Cross my heart and hope to die; I’m going numb and I’ve been hijacked.

            It’s a fucking drag.

            All these lyrics are my conscience. They play in my head and I want to ignore this asshole who’s taken my brain because they are poison and I want the antidote. It’s in my reach but I keep tripping over my feet because they’re in my head and I have no choice but to obey for now.

            I want desire, I want to see what you’re willing to lose.

            I toss, turn, and dance with them once more and I feel high as hell. I’m weaker and weaker and I hate them so so much they piss me off with everything they are and do but I can’t resist them because they make me feel sky-high like a bird in the night and I want to let go of them so bad it’s killing me but I can’t. I just can’t do it they keep coming back and I can’t resist them it’s awful awful awful

            Yet I still need them so much closer.

            No.

            I want them so much closer.