I am the mental masturbation that your mind once desired, I am the slow irritating scratching across your eardrums, I am that thing you forget is there and then come to later, I am a repetition of the pain that you once felt when you lost something, that urge to cry that slowly settles on the back of your heart waiting to be unleashed as you feel helpless. I am the depressive alcohol that you consume as you try to find reasons to your own seeped madness. You look to blame me, maybe to erase me. I am the nothingness that you seeped your own soul in. you blame me for your pain.
How can I be the blame when you were just lost in the pain? I tried to be there for you, to be the thing you could fall back onto. But you saw me as a annoyance that you had to cut away. I knew you didn’t need me anymore so I watch you fall apart as I pulled my lips together as if they were the seal that help freezer bags together, the contents of my bag, advice I once thought you’d listen to.
But instead you blamed me.