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I hurt for him while I could,

which was when I loved him.

He made me, and killed me,

and now he is the whisper of a

whisp of air.

I don't love him,

and I have all my life so

I don't really know who I am.

My life was over at fifteen,

and I knew it.

No one knows me, really,

because I know that my life

is the way it is

because a little boy

broke my heart

when i was a little girl.

Yesterday I was drunk and I almost messaged him

"Hahaha isn't funny that we were in love once?

When was that again?"

Honestly,

I still want to jump out this window.

It has no screen,

not quite unlike the one in his house,

that I would stand at every night

while he was peeing,

and think about how

someday my first love,

and that window,

would all be a dream.

But I'm having deja vu.

I want to die for him so badly,

and prove to myself that

there is some sanity in the world.