Small Things

Small things feel like accomplishments in your absence
That feels pathetic
I shower. "Good job !" I tell myself
I pay my credit card bill. "Wow, great work !" I tell myself
I get out of bed, finally, at 5 p.m. "You are a star" I tell myself
I don't punch myself in the head repeatedly. "Excellent self-control" I tell myself
I take my pills, even though taking them seems to reinforce how not okay I am
I don’t rebound my hair
I delete your number
I don't beg for you
I don't have violent sex with strangers
I don’t get so fucked up that I can't sleep without crying for you
When I walk, I think : "right, left, right, left" instead of thinking "Where is he ? Why isn't he here ?"
I keep my pretty heart safe from my ugly brain
I drink water, so I'm hydrated enough to keep mourning your name
I lie to myself and say I will be okay
I don't stop loving you
I hate you, but the love stays and it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns
I count my freckles, but the number doesn't matter if you aren't kissing every one
My pain is small compared to the buildings on my block
My pain is small compared to my red Nissan Cintro with the tainted windows and the spoiler
I do push-ups, and it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns, it burns
It burns so bad that I cry, and it is so refreshing, it is so good, to cry about something that isn't you