I don't want you to buy me flowers, I want you to deal with your trauma, To quiet your ego And figure out where you stand In absence of comparison to someone else. Must you always break yourself against everyone else Just to prove you are solid? I didn't expect eternal bliss, Butterflies and roses forever. I didn't expect to feel complete. But it shouldn't feel like early morning headaches, Acid reflux burning in my throat, Late night drives to nowhere, Nine a.m. Vodka tonics just to get through the day. That twisting, stabbing feeling in my stomach Telling me this will never change. It should've felt like warmth, Lazy Sunday mornings cuddled on the couch, A hot rosewater bath after a long day. Like meeting up with an old friend Or coming home for Christmas. Instead it's always felt like living Out my life with a stranger, Being the unwanted guest who stays Long after the party is over. Like I've written my own ransom note And no one has plans to ever meet those demands. If I could write an addendum at the bottom And give it to my past, young stupid self, It would read: RUN, go now and never look back.