Everyone has their bad habits, a letter.
You know that one friend I have, she tends to steal even though she's upper class
You smoke socially, even though you have fragile lungs, made of glass
I bite my nails, down to the cuticle, short
This reminds me of the attention span you had for me
I tend to swear a lot, as does everyone my age, my best friend tells me to stop but I can't seem to censor what I'm saying. These words allow me to scream without having to raise my voice, you said it was edgy. Just like the pieces you left of me.
Yes, everyone has their bad habits. But you couldn't seem to quit her.
I'll never understand how badly she broke you, but I Remember how hard I tried to put you back together. Your pieces as sharp as a blade, my hands bled when I touched you. Just as crimson as the blush of my cheeks, my face always went red around you.
You told me it took a full bottle of vodka to get you drunk but after three drinks you're always the person I wanted to text while I was intoxicated because you, were every sober thought and every tipsy craving left on the tip of my tongue. You were every impaired judgement I had on this highway of back and forths, you were a cycle I couldn't get out of.
I tend to put things off, I waited until the last second to ask you to be my girlfriend, but you were one tick of the clock ahead of me and our time together stopped. I always knew it was going to stop, it was more of a yielding yellow, reminding me that there was a going to be a sharp turn ahead. You reminded me that not everything was certain, things change.
You spent all of your loose change on coffee, you drank four cups a day because you couldn't stay awake, the thought of facing the day was scary to you. I always felt your energy even though it riled me up when all you wanted to do was die down because you missed her.
I wish I knew what her bad habits were, what made them so much more appealing than any sort of feeling I could instill in you. What was it that I lacked?
You said things didn't click, which made sense because I never liked puzzles. I get easily distracted but it seems like everything I think about somehow leads to you.
So I'm biting on the edge of my pen as I try to write the last poem I ever will of you, but metaphors of you are as easy to come by like the sight of you in the hallways. But it's hard to compare you to anything more than a habit I could never break, even though I broke.
You're every bad habit I find in myself, because I could never quit you, but you could never quit her.
~6!#
