And Sometimes her Heart is Too Big

I wanted to tell you that you don't matter. that you're awful.

but i don't care enough about you. i don't love enough to hate you. Funny, isn't it? The way things change and how many times you really can fuck up.

I planned on telling you that i was as good to you as i knew how to be, that i always offered myself up. always offered a hand-meal-dollar. Because i thought you were worth it. Because you evoked a sort of sympathy in me. a sort of humanity. I wanted to take care of you.

But i give up. Here's my towel, here's my shoulder, another shrug and you'll be gone.

because you don't matter to me.

If i were angry i'd demand "how dare you?!" i'd take back all the things i know you still have that are mine. I'd offcially denounce you to the world. I'd withdraw every pep talk, support talk, inspiration attempt i ever wasted on you. But you can have them. It's not worth the fight.

I don't even care enough to think of you as a waste of a person. I hold so little for you. not affection. not anger. nothing.

and that's barely surprising.

you're a slut. a bitch. I mean it but without passion. Close your legs, lose some weight, end the pity party cause i'll tell you, we're all sick of it. Sick of it. Stand up. Stand tall. but you can't. you're incapable. And maybe that's sad.

and that's barely surprising.

Here's a toast to another buried friendship. Another worthy one you've lost. Because i'll tell you, I was the best you were ever going to get.