When I think of you, I think about curling into a tiny ball and crying away my mistakes. When I think about what we did, I think about scrubbing my skin so hard that it starts to peel off. When I think about what you know, I want to hide far, far away, because of the continuous fear that you will tell everyone.

What we had was not as wonderful as I once thought it was.

I look back and can’t remember what was great, I do remember the drugs. The smoke that made me choke and cough and feel like I’m floating, I thought that feeling was you. Now when I’m around you I feel anxious and worried and sick to my stomach. When I’m around you I need to smoke in grams and cigarettes.

Maybe when the room is too smoking to see, we will be able to look each other in the eye.

Now I feel I’m giving you too much credit, too much attention. Maybe all I need is to throw up, get you off my mind, my body. Maybe the compulsive showering and chain smoking isn’t helping me at all, and all I need to do is make you go away, take you off this planet, off you out of this universe.

Theses are the kind of things that get me into trouble.