You make me sick to my stomach,

especially the fact that I can’t remove you from my heart.

You are like a clog in my arteries.

A mistake I can’t unmake.

A tumor in my brain,

that I can’t help but love.

But, if I could help it,

I’d erase it.

I’d erase you.

I tell myself that I wish I’d never met you,

but I know it’s a lie.

I know you were a lie.

Every word you spoke,

every moment we shared,

probably ment nothing to you.

And even though I know this,

I secretly deny it.

And it makes me sick.

Your whole existence makes me sick.

The fact that somehow you got to me,

somehow you got under my skin,

infuriates me.

I was naive.

I refused to listen to the warnings.

Everyone warned me.

Everyone.

But for some reason,

I gave you the benefit of the doubt,

a prize you didn’t deserve.

And now,

there is no turning back

for my heart.

I’ve moved on,

trust me,

I have.

But your memory stays engraved on my tombstone heart.