Avoidantly Yours

Woke up, broke up, scrolled through your dog’s page,

Cried in the shower, then posted like I’m slay.

I say “I’m over it,” but I check your status,

Blocking and unblocking like it’s emotional Tetris.

I send a meme when I mean “I miss you,”

Double-texted? Oops—blame the tissue.

I’m healed but still a hot mess,

Left on read in my Sunday best.

This is unhinged, unattached,

One soft launch from a full relapse.

Ghosted you—but now I’m bored,

So here I am with a Spotify chord.

I’m avoidantly yours, emotionally flawed,

Therapist said, “Stop,” but I just nod.

Overshare on stories, delete the whole account,

Wrote a note I’ll never send, in a font that screams “OUCH.”

My red flags wave like it’s a pride parade,

But I swear I’m chill… if you stay six states away.

Text me “k” and I’ll spiral for hours,

Google your birth chart, then cry in the shower.

Tried to heal, but I hit restart—

Turns out growth? Has no shopping cart.

This is toxic, traumatic,

A breakup ballad turned cinematic.

Dodging my feelings like dodgeball in school,

Still sending “u up?” while preaching “stay cool.”

I’m avoidantly yours, but I come with snacks,

And 3 AM thoughts and emotional flashbacks.

I’m not the villain.

I’m just the main character

…in your cautionary tale.

Avoidantly. Yours.