you oughta know

You took something from me,
And I want it back. 













You stole a piece of my heart
Extracted a part of my soul:
You recorded my voice
You took my art
And accepted my gifts








You pleasured me 
You made me laugh
You made me smile
You made me feel worthwhile
You made me feel validated














You used me, 
You exploited me

And still, I ate your cake. 








You took my love














And ran. 














You took an intimate part of me 
A part I rarely share
That I’ll never get back 
And you don’t even care. 







No
As a matter of fact,
I’m not over it. 
Call me crazy 
I don’t care. 
Because you’re just as twisted. 
You knew
Exactly 
What you were doing.






“you call it over 
and I call you psycho
significant other?
Just say we were lovers 
And we’ll call it even…

and if we should meet 
through some misunderstanding
ill be very sweet very patient and forgiving
(now get off my side of the state)

and if we should meet 
one another in passing
despite these techniques 
there is sometimes no avoiding
(there must be some kind of mistake)

we'll raise high our white flags 
and bow heads and shake hands
declaring the land we're on unamerican 
we'll call it even..


My place may be taken 
But make no mistake
From a little black book 
I can say without shame
That you’ve lost
Do you know what you’ve lost?”





Probably not. 


And it kills me. 
I’m honestly disgusted. 













And what’s more disgusting

I still miss you. 

Even after you showed no remorse or guilt or appreciation 
I still miss you. 








“can’t you just fix it for me?
I’ll pay you well,
Fuck, I’ll give you anything
If you could end this”