A lifetime of fragile bones
taught me to put away
all sharp objects.

It's hard to be clever
when sometimes I wonder
if we should still be together.

It's hard to make a ****** pun
when I know
later in bed, there will be none.

It's hard to find rhymes
in the midst of my apathetic mind
when I know I have to beg,
when I'm feeling left behind.

All I can find at this time
are words with pieces
of my rotting heart,
words that only serve
at pushing us apart.

How about an empty card?

I spent this morning
giving myself a beating
about my face
            my hair
            my body
pinching pices of fat
to find the one
that makes you not want me
then
I could take forbidden blades
and cut myself down
to the size
You wanted to feel inside
Your hands
to become the molded object
You would like to hold
again.

Most nights I still dream about you
About a face that I know
better than my own
Or used to.
I remember how you said you rarely dreamed
And I hope that's still true,
That you are granted the small mercy
of not seeing me
when you sleep.
Of not waking haunted
by your dreams.

I'm not your manic pixie dream girl
I'm not the one the rules don't apply to
I'm not the one you can listen to chew
Without needing to leave the room

I'm not your blonde *** goddess
I'm not the one you can't get enough of
I'm not the one you want to put your tongue on
Everytime I get out of the shower

I'm not the one you fell in love with
I'm not the easygoing rebel
I'm not the one with it all together
That you can turn to

I want to be her
More than I want to be myself
I want your undivided attention
More than I want anything else

But I have to decide
If the reality is worth living in
If I can give up all my fantasies
And expectations
Again.