The sound of my name.

I love the way you make my name sound. I wish you'd call me all the time. But you don't. You leave me craving your voice. I don't want anyone else saying my name after hearing it from you.

I hate the way your name sounds when I'm not the one calling you. I despise it even more these days. Especially when people say it but they're not referred to you. Because to me you're the only one worth existing with that name. 

I'm not a selfish person. Love made me. I love control and I hate sharing. I sacrificed myself with every compromise I had to make. Not all at once. Piece by piece and now I'm left unfinished, with haunting memories that keep me up all night.

My name doesn't feel like a name anymore, but letters put together to form noise. I don't know what my name is, I've been looking for it high and low. But if you called, maybe I'd have a way to find it again

So, call me. Will you? I'm tired of counting all your broken promises and struggling to keep mine when you leave me empty handed. You took everything I had that mattered to me; including my name. Now I am an open wound and it hurts every time someone tries to touch me in any way. 

Call me, I need to know my name, x.