She will shake the earth with her galaxy tear drops and train track tear tracks. Don't listen to the sobs; they will just tear you apart like small hands tear wrapping paper.
That's all she sees you as anyway. A tear torn from tired eyes. Alliteration saves you from deeper thinking.
Listen to her stories about him and feel happy for her. Laugh a moment after you think is right, and wonder if she notices how lost you are in her green fox eyes.
Ignore how your laughter rips a hole through your gut, and instead pull your inner strings into a smile. Imagine those strings as heartstrings, not the strings of a puppet.
Discover the poetry in depression and hate yourself just a bit more for it. Sleep just a bit less for it.
Write your stolen songs under the seats of her car, where she will find them long after she has forgotten the sound of your stolen voice. You're just a bit too numb to cry for it.
Some days you wonder what it's like having wings. Other days she smiles.
Don't wear your depression on your sleeves. Wear it under your sleeves in the form of blood and cuts. Don't tell her what's hidden there because she’ll never ask. You wish she would.
You wish she would rip off your shirt and ravish you with pain the same way the razor does.
Forgive her anyway.