Hey. Me again.

 

I’m getting so tired of our little

back-and-forths,

so I’m calling it right now.

 

Don’t come back to me.

 

I know what this is,

and I’m done with your abuse.

You’re bad for me,

I know that. I’ve always known.

Everyone you ever touch

withers.

 

(Crap, my hand hurts again.

Every stupid time I put things on paper…

But what’s it matter? This

needs to be said. Why am I

telling you anything?)

 

So pack it up, you. Get out

of my head and find someone else

to torment and crush. I want to

breathe again. I haven’t breathed

in so long.

 

I’ll kick you out. I will! I swear –

even if it kills me –

I will rid myself of you.

It might take

every pill in the bottle,

and a year of sleepless nights,

but I’ll be safe

someday.

 

I will be safe from you, Anxiety.

 

Just you remember that:

even if it kills me, I’ll take that over

living with you another day.

 

I’ve already got

a restraining order from the doctor.

So just try it.

I can’t wait to get you sacked,

to feel you slip away forever.

 

Did you… ever love me?

 

You told me I was stuck with you,

and I thought maybe that wasn’t so bad,

but I was so wrong. I still can’t

breathe.

You come too near and I

shut down. Do you find pleasure

in making people cry?

I hate you.

Do you even know what it’s like to cry?

Do you know

what you do to me?

 

Never mind. I don’t care. Just

get out of my world

and don’t you look back.

Maybe

dealing with you has made me stronger,

and maybe

I should be grateful for that,

but I have to admit

I’m not.

 

I won’t be grateful

until we never share a space again.

Goodbye, Anxiety.

 

 

- Your Ex

 

P.S. Don’t try to come back once you’re gone.

I’ve got enough pills

to kill us both.