pink is my new favorite color

sitting in my car
in the middle of a parking lot
all alone
with bruises all up in my grill
in my body
on my soul
in my mind
ones my therapist doesn't know about
or could ever fix

the smoke filling my lungs
makes me cough out all the pain
and hurt
that you have caused me
i want you out of my being
my existence
all my instances of life
i've tried to tell you
make you understand
but you don't even care
no returns to phone calls
or responses to hugs
or out of the emotions
that i have
that you had
that you led me to believe
were there:
excuses
stories
food
and languages
that used to be ours
that you now use
for you and yours

fuck that
go away
and don't come back
until you're ready

i can't fix you
i can't fix me
i want to
but i can't
and i love you
but apparently
that's not enough for you to understand
you act like you don't understand
but there's something there
a bush and a listener
could make something special
but i'll drink it up
and spit it out
and lay in it
and now i'm drowning in it
in this car
in the bitter cold
unhappy and
left wanting
for what i know is there
that you reject
every chance
in every way
you know how