Red-tinted eyes

see the world and

angry words spurt

from those too-red

lips.

Everything is red,

your T-shirt and

converse shoes, too.

I block out the noise my

ears

can't handle. Because

if I had to listen to you

and see you, I'd just go

over the top, steaming

mad.

You try to calm me down

but it's futile. That means

useless, 'cuz I know you

don't read much. And that

hurts,

because it reminds me how

you thought it was so cute

when I curled up, reading.

How you'd wrap your arms

around

me, pull me close to you. You

hate reading, but not as much

as you used to. The reason for

this change? Me and only me.

That

is something else I can't handle.

The way I changed you, certain

opinions you had, certain views

of the world. You thought it was

all

“falling to shit” as you so vividly

put it. I changed you from cynic

to optimist. I'm wondering now,

while you're still trying to explain

yourself,

will you go back to how you were

before me, or will you stay this way?

Will you want to forget me, or not?

You know what, it's gone on for too

long.