That song has been looping in my head for a whole damn week, like a ghost that won’t leave the room. All I can think about is the t-shirt you left behind — the one that never really suited you anyway. You didn’t want it back, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna beg you to take it. But wearing it feels like pressing on a bruise I can’t stop touching. The hurt stays fresh. The yearning stays loud.
I keep searching for the reason why you’re still lingering in my life like smoke after the fire’s gone out. No clean answer comes. Maybe it’s because you matched my freak in the most dangerous way. You wrecked my brain, left cracks I try to patch with meds just to stay sane enough to function.
Yet here I am, caught in this sick paradox: I crave the quiet, the peace, the version of me that doesn’t feel like it’s one step from the mental asylum… but I miss the way you made me insane. The chaos. The way you’d pull me under and I’d thank you for the drowning. I love that darkness. It hurts so good.
I use that t-shirt like a souvenir now. A dirty little relic from the war we called love. Instead of letting the memories fade, I wrap myself in it at night, chasing the ghost of your scent, the echo of your touch, the high I got just from being near you. I can’t rekindle shit. I know that. The love, the kisses, the good nights that felt like they could last forever — none of it belongs to me anymore. But this cheap piece of fabric? It lets me borrow the feeling. For a few minutes, I’m back in your arms, electric and ruined at the same time.
I can’t keep your love.
I can’t keep your kiss.
Gave you everything — my mind, my sanity, my bleeding heart — and all I got was this.
And still… I’d burn for it again. Even if it drags me back to the edge. Even if the only thing left is this hoodie, this t-shirt, and the beautiful wreckage you made of me. Come haunt me some more. I’m not ready to let the madness go.
