twenty

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her


if i scream,
i will echo throughout
the walls of my empty house
so i do, because it might fix
my broken heartstrings

there is a knock on my door,
the boy i love is standing there,
looking at me intensely,
and he says, "are you alright?"

"yeah," i croak, "i'm fine."
little does he know that is
the biggest lie i've ever told
aside from the one where
i tell myself i'll get better

"lotus, can i talk to you?"

and i feel like every piece
of me might crumble to the ground,
i feel my throat clench and my eyes hazy
"no."

i shut the door in his face,
for all i know:
he can go fuck himself

him

"lotus, please!" i bang on
her closed door and curse
"fucking shit, please!
i need to talk to you!"
"go away!" she shouts. "you
made me feel like you loved
me but you didn't and it broke me."

"i—i got a big record deal," i admit.
"really?" she says.
"yeah. first album comes out in a
week. i'm the opening
show for a big artist."
"when?"
"in a month. i leave for three months."
"alright. you can go now."

the weather of february is
freezing my hands off
"lotus, i'm sorry."
"why didn't you say it back?"
"because if i left after saying it,
it would hurt you more."

she suddenly flings the door
open and points her finger in my chest
"you asshole! it would hurt less than
what you fucking did! you got me addicted
to the idea of you and then cut me off! you
made me fall in love with you and didn't catch me!
you can go fuck yourself!"

i grab her waist and kiss her
and i can feel her anger pulsing
in her veins and she kisses me back

"you know that i do," i say.
"you know how i feel."
she takes my hands off her,
"no, i don't. you broke my heart,
west. you can royally fuck yourself.
oh and congratulations on the record deal."

she slams the door in my face
for a second time that night,
closes all the lights and locks
her door.

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