Dear Past Lover

I hate to be the person who forgets the good and remembers the bad, but here I am. The moments of concentration we had were nothing moments, hardly comparable to the moments of pain you caused me. You know my wiring and you pushed the buttons every chance you got. The memories of you that still make me smile aren't comparable to every slap in the jeep, every slam in the wall, every angry, broken word. I know sometimes I caused it. I thrived off your anger like you thrived off my pain. We're two wristcutters cutting the throats of each other. I fell asleep thinking about falling into your eyes while I smelled the smoke of that other girl. The advice you gave was fake, how kind of you to pretend you wanted me to be better. I was best for you, a source to feed. Yet you could live without me, there are a million vulnerable girls in this world. So here's the last pieces of my heart Kris. I willingly give them to you. They should feed you as you climb your way out of this rut. I loved you, and you could give me anything but.