37

Sunday

It's been over a year

since it all started to burst,

since I started boycotting myself,

since I started feeling like shit.

I would not eat

more than two portions a day

I had never been that thin,

I had never been that unhappy.

I could not express

the sorrow beneath me.

How was I supposed to cope with sex

if no love was I able to feel?

So I started recluding

I started hiding

I could not stand it

that project was slowly eroding.

On our last Sunday together

you told me, I remember quite well

you knew something was happening,

you suspected we were towards the end.

I didn't want to interact

I didn't want to talk that through

I had already shot the gun,

we were already done.

Wherever I recall that day

I feel pity for us

I feel we could've done so much

instead of just fucking around.

I need to forgive myself

I need to reconcile with my heart as well

I can't go on yet

until there's some visible growth.