Thirteen Months

You bastard.

You heartless filth.

You know what I hate most about you?

It’s that, no matter how many bad names I throw at you, I can’t hate you.

I didn’t know that love could make you so weak.

I’d do anything for you, you incomprehensible piece of shit.

What would you do for me, huh?

You wouldn’t even breathe for me, if I asked you to.

Remembering you makes me cry.

I still can’t listen to our songs.

It’s been thirteen months, and I’m still the same idiot.

I wanted to fall in love, and I got what I wanted. The worst way. The pathetic way.


Lucky, lucky, foolish me.

I hope karma gets you.

Just kidding. I probably couldn’t hurt you if I had to choose between you and my own family.

Isn’t that cute.


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Queer librarian blogs mostly about books

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