Dear heartbreak

It’s about time you left

Let’s breakup.

I mean for you to take this personally, i don’t like you.

You showed up uninvited, as loves plus one. In you blew, like a storm in the desert — kicking up sand in my eyes and making me cry. You took off your coat (not your shoes, you knew how much i can’t stand shoes worn inside my home), emptied all your baggage all over my floor, you sunk into my sofa and pressed play to your brokenhearted soundtrack.

First up on the playlist was ‘Unbreak my heart’ by Toni Braxton, tell me — were you trying to be ironic with that one? It’s rhetorical, so nevermind. On repeat, it played — stirring up my torment over and over. My unsuccessful attempt to hold back the flood, lasted til the end of the first line. You had me in a maze of tears, no exit in sight. I don’t recall much else about that first night, the other songs were just a wall of noise.

They say misery loves company, and i guess they are right — because here you are stuck on me every day and all night. Don’t you have any friends that would take you in?

You see the thing is, I’m done with the tears and the sleepless nights. I’m done with the whys and the stupid fights. I’m done with feeling like I’m just not a good fit for love — I know that much is untrue. I’m done with the ache in my chest and the lump in my throat. I’m done with looking a fucking mess, and I’m done with lacking hope. I’m done with the icebox you replaced my heart with, i need my heart back because I’ve got love to give.

You stomped on my heart and kicked it around on the floor, i suppose that’s what you left your big shoes on for.

It’s been eight long years that you’ve held me hostage, to be honest I’m impressed with myself that i haven’t totally lost it. I’ve been to the edge, and that’s close enough thank you. So up you get and off you go, close the door behind you. Like i said to you before — i really, really don’t like you.

It’s been hella emotional, it’s been super rough. Now the time has come, let’s break up.

Sincerely NOT yours,


P.S. I’m changing the locks.

Hey there I'm D. Writer/Poet/Mother - I know a little Tai Chi, but my Kung Fu is weak - beautifully flawed

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