No, I’m not not writing anything about you. I‘m not even thinking or blinking or breathing but maybe i’ll still be breathing cause i’ll die if i don’t.*deep breath*. Know whether to still write anything about you.. don’t even know that i’m writing. You don’t even know it’s about you. Yes, it’s not just about the skies being blue or the lies being true or the police finding a clue. Honey, it’s all about you! and when I say honey, it’s not about the honey that a bee finds, it’s not the tree that kids climb, it’s not about someone being blind. It’s about you running around in my mind, running around in my thoughts. I thought i have caught you but i have been caught, i fought, but lost and now i’m lost.. for words. And all I can do is sigh, i’m not high, i’m just trying not to write a single thing about you. I don’t want to think of what words to use, what paper to choose, what poet to beat, or what thought to plagiarize.. again.. just to write something beautiful. and you don’t even notice. I am not his. Not hers, not yours.. anymore.
And the more words i write, the more it becomes a ranting. So many things to do rather than writing something about you. I’m neither broke nor brokenhearted, But maybe I’m brokenhearted. Did not digest that thought just ingested and ingested until I was choked. So I’ll make myself breathe again. I’ll forget those ABCs that turned to ILYs that turned to WTFs and when I reach the E-N-D, then I’ll have to S-T-A-R-T to 123 and skip Y-O-U. This doesn’t make sense any longer. B-Y-E.
I have written many things about you before. I’m not writing anything about you anymore.