Done With You

Sitting in a corner playing with my monkeys
All is dark
There used to be a light
It was stolen
I was raped of all necessities
Love doesn't exist anymore
Never will know if it ever existed
Left with all this pain
Feelings of your pleasures rip through my walls 

Like glass on flesh
I'm here with open wounds
Identity pouring through
Have to hide it
Can't give in
Don't touch me 
Don't give me the happiness
Leave me with my pain
My only friend who never betrays me
Pour me that drink again
The one that tells me with every gulp 
That the only one who ever needed me worse than heroine 

Was you
You're the only one who cares
Oh wait
In my confused state
I have seemed to have forgotten 
That since your beverage runs through my system so fast
It leaves me with a terrible discomfort in the pit of my stomach
Hand me a Rolaid instead

I found this poem that I wrote when I was cleaning my room this past weekend. I vaguely recall the notepad I scratched it out on being in my purse that I used whenever I would go to Mr. Invader of WhatTheFuckLandia's house, circa 2017. I wrote it as a bit of a cleansing - kind of an odd thing, finding something that occurred during a cleansing, while performing another cleansing. I would always feel so empty when I was with him, and I could never place my finger on why. At that time, anyways. I completely understand why now. I used to get the same rush and subsequent crash when I would randomly touch base with him, and now that I live in the same town, ten houses down the road from where he works to be exact, I just have no energy left for him anymore. I feel really good about that.