Hurt (this is a stupid title)

Dear Johnny,
My chest hurts, like physically, and I can’t really swallow. I have ants under my skin, crawling and squirming. It was never peaceful, but what is it now? How can I live with alligators chewing on my stomach, thrashing around making everything wrong and broken? The only link I had left has drifted into the web like ghosts and smoke, and I’m in pieces, my heart wrenched into even smaller bits. How is it possible for you to do this without a word, with only absence to take up the space you made in my heart? With everything else, with all that I’m holding, how can I let go of this last thread even if it’s already gone? How has life become so unfair? And how fucking cliché have I become to write with them because isn’t life always unfair? Of course, but honestly aren’t some lives, some fates definitely doomed? And that’s what I have, this basket of chaos deemed to be living and now you’re gone for good, my voyeuristic tendencies squashed as they should be, but my body still hurts and I don’t know how I’ll survive not hearing your music or seeing your voice on the screen. It feels like death unrequited. This is stupid, as always.

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