You have now left me

As I sit here fighting away more tears
I wonder
Do you remember all the things I wrote about you?
Do you remember the poem called You that I wrote?

You probably don't

Even though you left me today it feels like it was forever ago
For you seem so far away from me

Did you think about the fact that you come over early every thursday so you can get to youth?
Wether I'm coming or not?

You probably didn't

Now every time you come over
I will retreat
I will retreat to my bedroom
To the bathroom
Or out the door
So I can find somewhere quite to cry

Because your smile gave me life
Your gaze gave me butterflies

You are utterly beautiful in my eyes
But you don't see yourself that way

So you break
And then you leave me
Because 'you can't handle a relationship'
I understand
But my heart still shattered when I read those words

Tears instantly swelled my eyes and started to pour
Just like rain on a lonely night

Now tonight as I go lay in my bed
I will stare out my window
At the wall
Or the roof

Remembering your smile
Remembering your laugh
Remembering how safe I felt next to you
Pressed into you
And just near you

I will lay there as tears streak my cheeks
As I remember the way my heart would beat just at the sight of you
As I remember the way my heart would break when I saw the smile falter from your face

For I didn't want you to feel broken like me
Because you deserve to be happy

You are beautiful to me
And you always will be

Now as I sit here my thoughts will not leave you

If anyone asks for me to be theirs I will probably say no
And I probably will for many years

But if I say yes I will not truly love them
For I will forever remember when you were my puppy
And I was your kitten

rewrite my name

In whatever script suits you.
Twist the letters
Distort the consonance
until the whispered sound that turns my head
begins and ends with you.

Scratch your fingernails over my mind–
make it skip like a broken record

drown me in your words.
let them overcome me
I want all that I hear and breathe to be

The sound and smell of you.

rewire my heart
to beat along with the rhythm of yours.

I want the parts of me,
definitively mine,
To melt and mold with yours.

So that I might know you deeply and entirely.

cut me down to the bone
look at the spoiled, sick
pieces of me.

and ask me
what went wrong.

I’ll show you the invisible scars
the footsteps on my heart
the fingerprints on my wrist
the scalding burns that scathed the neurons in my hippocampus.

Slice me open.
navel to nose
and walk away with bloodied hands.

I’ll keep the scars and scratches
and turn my head to the tune of your name.

i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me.

i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability.

let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you.

because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.
                                         you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.
                                          i tell you that i have been to four.
                                          names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining.
20mg.
                    30mg.
you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet.

let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh;
i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.
                       tragic, isn’t it.

you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know.
i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.
                                             i know.
please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning.
i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.
                                                                ­                 let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore.

let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.
                                             and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.

                                              tragic, isn’t it.