My mother warned me about cigarettes that could cause cancer
But she never told me that self-hatred can grow faster than any tumour ever could
My father warned me that I should never stop thinking
But he never told me that overthinking would kill my happiness
My sister warned me about other people who might make hurtful comments about me
But she never told me that instead of hearing someone else’s voice, I’d hear my own
My brother warned me about drugs in baggies sold on the street,
But he never told me about the ones that people put in your glass when you’re not looking
My grandmother warned me about the devil with his tail and red horns
But she never told me about his angelic smile and dark, ocean blue eyes
My grandfather warned me about booze that could kill
But he never told me that if you drink enough alcohol, it tastes like love
My cousin warned me that I should love my virginity to a guy I love
But she never told me he should love me, too
My aunt warned me that if I kept eating that much, I might vomit
But she never told me that even without eating anything, you can hang over the toilet and puke
My baby sitter warned me that a boy could break my heart
But she never told me that if I made him mad, he’d also break my arm and nose
My teacher warned me about dangerous men with knives that could cut my throat
But she never told me that I didn’t need these men to cut my skin
They all warned me that I shouldn’t do dangerous things that could kill me
But I never had the chance to ask them if slitting both of my wrists vertically
And taking thirty-eight aspirins, was one of these dangerous things
I can only see you in my dreams now,
or whenever I try to dig up the dead.
That’s what you are, isn’t it?
Dead? A ghost?
You walk and breathe and talk but your eyes are empty.
I can tell because mine are, too.
Why did you leave me?
I don’t know why I ask, honestly. I know you won’t give me an answer.
Or an honest one, at least.
There’s dirt under my fingernails and my stomach is full of lead.
Clawing at the dirt doesn’t help me sleep at night.
You’re not coming back, are you?
If I’m being honest, I don’t even love you anymore.
I miss it, though.
God, do I miss it.