At the thought of you, all I can taste is blood. It feels like a hundred punches to the gut even though you’re not there. My nights go by sleepless, me pulling my hair out and shaking uncontrollably. But I don’t miss you. I miss what things could have been. I miss being able to imagine a future in which I’m at least a bit content and where I’m treated properly. I can’t see anything past tomorrow, though. I can’t see much without you here either. You decide why that is.

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