thanks a lot, adam.

and sobbing over love songs.
and beating myself up over the past.
and torturing my heart over something
that, for other reasons, didn't last.

and wanting something from nothing.
and wanting nothing from it all.
and hurting over this routine
that's like my monthly brawl.

and building up that patina.
and mentally tearing my wrists.
and blaming you for something
that i know does not exist.

and thinking of what he's done to me.
and perhaps he's the cause.
or maybe it's all just in my head.
i can't wait for menopause.