I spent the entire time we were together imagining losing you,
dreaming about the way my heart would figuratively crumble,
wondering how it’d feel to be alone again.
You were the prince, the charmer, the quarterback who’s also a nice guy,
and I was the lucky one who stole you from all of the princesses and cheerleaders.

I crushed my thoughts in my jaw like Skittles,
but I have always hated sour candy, and
likewise, this made my stomach churn.
I turned myself into a paper doll and slowly cut off all the imperfections
but the longer I looked the more flaws I saw and I cut and cut and cut and cut
until there was no paper left.

Now that you’re gone I’m in this strange state of euphoria,
I’m floating, but not like a feather;
I can’t see myself spiraling back down,
and not like a cloud,
I can’t see myself dissipating in the next wind.

It wasn’t that you weren’t wonderful or lovely or everything they said you were,
it was that you weren’t the seconds in between my heartbeat,
you weren’t the laughs that interrupted my speech,
you weren’t the lyrics of my songs or the last thing I thought of at night,
and until now you weren’t even a line in any of my poems.

It was that when I let my words escape, you never knew what I was saying,
and I’ll confess, I didn’t hear anything you said either.
It was that when I did smile, you never knew why and certainly weren’t the cause,
and I was too busy destroying myself to generate any happiness for you.

I’m counting the days I’ll spend by myself and the midnights I’ll remain unkissed,
but I’ve realized I’m not made of paper and I do not have to tear.
My heart is crumbling and I am so, so afraid of being alone,
but I’d rather dream about love than fake it.