The day is Saturday, it’s a little past sundown
I broke up with my girlfriend yesterday
And I somehow don’t feel anything yet
It’s all blank
It’s like a new slate
But I don’t want a new slate
I don’t want a new chapter
I miss the old dirty pages
The coloured sheets of our old book
The one with art, made of lines from every love song she ever sang
And every love poem I ever composed for her once beautiful soul

1. My heart is purple. Not purple as in royalty. It’s the shade it should be after severally being beaten black and blue after all the heartbreaks I experienced. I loved her with my shattered pieces, yet she found a way to break them into smaller ones.

2. My smile is crooked. It’s like the direction to my thought process. I used to have a laugh the colour of the skies. Now, I just sound like Satan’s evil step son. My lips no longer twitch in happiness because my only source discovered she still loves her ex boyfriend.

3. Why is it still possible to remember exes? I wish I was a neuropharmacologist or something of the sort so I could manufacture a drug to make everybody forget everyone they’ve ever broken up with. That way, there’s no way she would have remembered him at all, or me, remember her, now.

4. The last time I had a heartbreak, I told myself “never again. I can’t keep going through all this stress”. But I am a stupid stupid stupid person, making the same mistakes over and over again. My eyes are the clouds and I hear a thunderstorm in the distance.

5. I never sleep during the day. But I did today. And somehow, I slept cold and woke up cold. But it had nothing to do with the weather. It was something deeper, or shallower. Depending on how you see it.

6. I was ready to plant daisies at the base of her navel. The last time we saw each other was 3 months ago. She told me goodnight at 8:49pm and I never thought it would be the last. If she died, it would have been more hurtful, but maybe, just maybe I could have comforted myself that at least, at least, she loved me.

6. Sometimes when I’m pissed off, I forget how to count.

6. My next girlfriend would have to be magical. She would literally have to descend from heaven in front of me before I believe she wasn’t sent by my imaginative evil step dad.

6. Heaven used to be a place up in the skies till my lips collided with hers.

7. When we dated, I always wrote about heartbreaks, it’s like I anticipated the future. Conspiracy theories, that’s what I called them. You thought my poems were beautiful; how could I have known? How could I have known I was only giving you ideas?

8. This isn’t a poem. It’s a charade I’ve put up to convince myself I’m grieving, because that’s the least you should do when you lose something beautiful and something you once saw as perfect, right? The first time I saw you, I thought you were ordinary. I know, I lied when I told you I thought you were perfect the first time. But the first time we kissed, the world didn’t stop, time didn’t stand still. Everything just exploded. It was better than I ever imagined. Our lips didn’t just meet, they introduced themselves to each other and shook hands. They fell in love, got horny whilst playing on the couch of our mouths; and they had sex. It was magical. Like a spell cast by Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander. That’s always been my favourite magician.

9. I wish there was a spell I could cast to reverse time back 8 months. I know it’s impossible to change fate, but at least I would know the future. Then, I could avoid meeting you in the first place. I would avoid saying hi. Because what use is there in tasting vanilla ice cream, if you wouldn’t be allowed to finish your cup, or ever take vanilla ice cream ever again?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s