Going going gone

I've spent the last days taking sedatives
And medication
And rum
And weed
And all of those things couldn't fill the hole of your betrayal
I want to hate you. I want you to suffer. I want you to forget you've ever existed. But I just can't.
So I drink rum and smoke like crazy and heaven knows when was the last time I drank water
And I wait
For a message.
For a call.
For a sign that any of this had any meaning.
The silence filling my head like fog
The memories a clinkless toast
The pictures and notes smell like ashes and I like to watch them burn.
The fire is beautiful. You can't make fire feel afraid.
So I won't be afraid.
Is this crazy? You think I am crazy after all. Bipolar girl is too much to handle, she makes poor boys depressed. Of course you were not depressed while fucking that prostitute.
You will be forgotten from now on. You, a manchild, will not ever again hold the power of my love in your hands.
You, a traitor and a liar, will live alone knowing that you are so sick that you left me in the dirtiest way.
You will keep going to prostitutes and that's better for your family than having me over for a week, so I guess it's a win-win for everybody.
But I will stand up. I will get out of bed. I will be amazing.
And I will be all of those things away from you and from whatever you call love.
You will never smell my hair again.
You will never be touched by me again.
You will never be looked at with my love again.
You will not even have my pity or my anger.

You will become nothing and I will continue to stand.