sick.

i feel sick.

sick of you.

sick of thinking of you.

sick of wanting to see you.

sick of wanting you to want to see me.

sick of wanting you to want me.

i’m sick of you.

i want you out.

out of my head.

out of my hands.

out of my skin.

how do i go about cutting you out cleanly?

without cutting out bits of me too?

where do you end and i begin?

the border seems blurred and jagged.

but i’m not so sure it’s the same for you.

and i’m so, so sick of it.

sick of you.

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