UNTITLED ( burying myself. )
I don’t really know what to do with this mess of us.
I don’t want to do anything with it;
it would just be
what I tried to avoid.

I left you because I couldn’t tell who I was when I was trying to make you happy.
I found out yesterday that this dynamic has changed;
it has gotten much, much worse.

Not only can I not tell the difference between
myself and trying to please you,
but now
I cannot even tell you anything ( that )
at all.

I don’t know what to do about this.

I want to run away from you;
Yesterday, I dug the hole for myself deeper.

Getting out will be dirtier, harder,
more sweat and more tears—

Getting out will only be more obvious.

Getting away will only hurt you more.

© CarmeFormIhn