the walls are empty.

the walls are empty. walls the used to be filled with pictures of you. now i look around and realize i’ve stopped caring about what you do. it used to hurt visiting places where it was us where i wished time would stop because it was never enough i deny that i loved you after all that you did. things i thought were “love” because i was just a little kid. sobbing and screaming from how i’ve been used thinking that you loved me that i was your muse i really tried to be perfect as close as i could get but each passing day just made me more upset. all the sorries, and the gifts. all the tears and “be better”s made me rethink everything. everything you promised in that letter. was it ever real? was anything you said true? or were you living up to your last name stomping on my heart like a shoe? it doesn’t matter anymore yet, it haunts me sometimes and i try to forget it but my mind’s never blind. you were plastered all over my life from paintings and songs to flowers in august you were in my mind all along. the cloud in my skies is what you came to be and now i just sit here thinking the walls are empty.