Don't Think About It

“Don't think about it, don't think about it.” I say to myself whilst constantly thinking about it. It was far from perfect. It was far from right. It wasn't like him. It wasn't like him. Wasn't. Past tense. Tense. I'm always tense now, I can't stop thinking about it. Don't think about it, don't think about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking of him, not him, the other him, the good him. Understanding, caring loving without love. Him. The wrong him. They're all wrong. I don't want him. Why don't they understand. I don't want him. I never wanted him. Past tense. The past. “Don't look back, don't look back.” I say whilst always looking back. I can't see past the past. I can't sleep without thinking about it. Don't think about it. Don't. I'm thinking about it. It. The night he crawled in next to me as if he was supposed to be there. The night he tried to wake me as if I was supposed to be awake with him. The night he tried to slip my clothes off as if I would let him. I let him. I didn't stop him, I didn't let him know I was awake until it was over. Over. Over and over it flashes through my mind. Over and over, I can't get it out. Out. “Out.” I should have said. “Get out.” Don't think about it. Don't.