I've got to shake you off, wash you from my sheets and body. Let you pool and sluice off me down the shower drain.
How it must feel to you. Does it feel like victory? Or is it a bittersweet prophecy you force yourself to fulfill over and over again?
Thank you for sacrificing me on the alter of your callousness. I needed to be reminded. Wash those stars out of my eyes. All that's left behind now are the traces of makeup that tears couldn't flush out.
You. Fucking. Asshole.
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