My whole head is a mess—so is my room.

Just thinking of you makes my stomach hurt.

Knowing you’ve moved on hurts more than thinking of you.

“How could you do it so easily?

Why couldn’t I?

How do you sleep at night, after all the good memories we had?”

These thoughts flow through my head every night.

And even though you’re not gone,

I can’t stop wondering—

“Do you think of me the way I do?”

My head is always a mess,

but your presence in it

feels nothing like the rest.