You.

This is about nobody in particular.
But, this is about you.
You:
-Do not know the impact you’ve had on me
-Do not know how I’ve grown up without you
-Do not know how pissed I am at you
-Don’t know shit.

This is about you, the lack of you, the overabundance of you.
This is about how I see you and you not seeing me.
This is me wondering if you see me, hear me, read about me, think about me, want me.
This is me wondering why the fuck you talked to me in the first place.
This is me wondering why I never stopped you.

This is me not sure how/what to think of you.
This is me wanting closure, to hug you, to kiss you, to slap you, to punch you.
This is about nobody in particular, but it’s really about you.