The weight of this crush is starting to do something to me. 

The ground beneath me is caving in. The world under my feet seems to be hollow, and I can just fall and fall and fall into it.

Like I could fall into her. 

This crush is such a sensation around my neck. This crush is such a rock to the back of my head. I feel my bones splintering and bursting inside.

This crush, her hands on me, her thoughts on my mind, it’s breaking me into bits,
But I just can’t seem to
stop 

I wanted to tell you, I wanted to remind you, I wanted to make you feel something that’d make you come back. I wanted to be that cigarette you were reaching for without thinking about it. I wanted to be the buzz of caffeine deprivation that made you angry without realizing it. I wanted the lack of me to make you snappish and irritable. 

The abundance of me does it too. Just as well. I can see it, hear it.
You get like an angry old waitress who’s spent too many years on her feet. You look at me like you’ve heard it all before, and you know you’re going to have to hear it all again, and you’re fucking tired. You know I won’t tip enough. You know its still hours to go before another break. I know you’re getting tired of me, and I’m getting tired of the service.

I didn’t want to be your broken-down car on the side of the road. I wanted to be something that made you feel good, not caught up in the gears. I didn’t want to grind you down. I didn’t mean to use you so hard and thoughtlessly. 

I fill my lungs with blood and my veins with smoke. 

I struggle to shut myself up, and down.