breathe again

don’t know where you are, but i don’t care.

don’t know who you’re talking sweet to these days, but i don’t care.

don’t know where you’re heading and i never knew where you went, 

but it’s not keeping me up at night anymore.

“you don’t really stop caring until you stop talking about it.” 

a bold statement from my acquaintance who’s never spent a day alone. 

well, i talk about it because it doesn’t hurt anymore.

i vocalize it because it no longer holds power over me.

the former idea that you left because i wasn’t enough 

has been irrevocably transformed into the idea that 






and for God

and for my mom

and my friends

and for the people who are meant to stay.

i slipped up the moment i let you put the shackles on me.

i slipped up the moment i turned on myself and everything i built up for years and years.

i slipped up the moment i said “let’s try again.”

eyes shot open. i woke up. 

i used to gasp for air, but i can breathe again.

you were not meant to stay and i don’t care.

say it to my face, dude. (enter your comment below, i love all forms of feedback)

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