Then one night you did it again. The same words. The same pain. This time you didn’t wake up. You stopped breathing as you laid on your back. Suffocating. I didn’t call for help until I knew for sure that you were gone. I didn’t cry.
You used to drink until you passed out, but before you did, you always pointed out everything that you didn’t like about me. I cried. You didn’t hit me, but your words hurt nonetheless. When you woke up, you didn’t remember anything you said. When I brought it up, you said I misconstrued everything.
Then one night you did it again. The same words. The same pain. This time you didn’t wake up. You stopped breathing as you laid on your back. Suffocating. I didn’t call for help until I knew for sure that you were gone. I didn’t cry. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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