Love can be many things. It can be a ray of hope on a cloudy day of self-hatred. It can be what helps you get out of bed. It can be as comforting as freshly dried sheets. But love doesn't last.
Like many things, it has an expiration date. And sometimes letting go of that rotten love is impossible. Even though it's rotten. The only thing you want is another taste.
Just a little bit more. Even if it kills me. Inspired by love to kill myself so she'll notice me again. Cut and burn myself and hope she realizes. Hope she'll talk to me again.
But that won't happen. I'll drink this rot. I'll hope maybe it won't be rotten anymore. Maybe she loves me again. Maybe if I drink this rot I'll grow immune to this pain.
I know it'll just break me more but I can't stop. Anything I can do to get another taste of love.