Hey you love me right?
Let me send you something
Let me intrude into your thoughts
When I am not there
See my naked body flash before you on that tiny screen
Did you get it?
Let me send another and another and another
Until all you can do is bleed from your cheeks
Until that pit in your stomach begins to tighten
Until you want that sweet, sweet sorrow filled ecstasy only I can provide
Now I can stand before you
The nudes I sent were sanded down
I was the epitome of what a **** really is
Not one stray hair visible
Not one, single intrusion
But here I am
Rough bumps, bones sticking out, intrusive hairs
But when I am not a **** I am your girl
So sail across the sea that dips down in the hollow of my back
Hike your way up mountains made of thighs
Let me show you something
Put your fingers in
Everything feels so soft and warm right?
Now take them away from me
Lick the lust from between your fingers
Does it taste like vanilla and caramel?
Make me yours
But you can’t
Or is it that you won’t?
You may even refuse to
So a **** can cause chaos on a sun filled day?
But honey I am a thunderstorm
I sanded myself down
I became a **** all for you
So what happens when my own fingers trace my hip bones?
When I climb the mountains?
Can you be jealous of something you never even had?
‘*** now please’ flashed at you
My teeth seem to rip into my own lust
Yet all you want are my nudes
You don’t want me fully and entirely
Is It alright for me to sink my own teeth in?
Until nudes and lust come flowing out
Oh but wait, they will wrap around you completely
Because my nudes and lust will always come back to you
So you love me right?
Let me send you something
Another **** appears
And another
And another
And another

The best poems are all about
loss and pain and suffering.
It feels more natural to write a poem
about a long lost memory,
Or a love that never worked.

Poets aren't allowed to be happy.
They’d run out of material to write about.

The words
content and happy
in the same sentence as the word
I'm,
feels like your tongue
never sitting right in your mouth,
like teeth getting in the way
when making out
like an itchy throat,
not going away even after coughing a fit.

The phrases
You are and my boyfriend
can't be a real sentence
like how
unicorns and fairytales
don't exist.
They just feel like
two jigsaw pieces
from different parts of the puzzle
forced to sit beside each other.

The word love
just doesn’t resonate
with the beat of my heart.
Maybe because
my heart stopped beating
a long time ago
and my brain had to carry the workload
so I think twice as much as I should
synonyms?
I overthink.

I may be the only poet
who doesn’t want to be happy;
a ******* clinging to heartbreak,
and loss and pain and suffering.
because it’s easier to let heartbreak
wrap myself in its familiar arms
than to experience an adventure
with happiness wrapped in mine.

I feel like there should be a funeral for people to gather and say goodbye.
Reminisce about the good old times and console one another as they cry.

They’d remember how I loved to dance and laugh; being wild and care free.  
It would be a day of celebrating the full and vibrate life of me.

But instead I’m classed as living even though part of me is dead.
They tell me how good I look but they can’t see inside my head.

The future was once mine to take, my destinations vast.
Now all I have are constant thoughts of how long this hell will last.

I am the only mourner for the girl that passed away.
For her spirit has left unnoticed whilst her body is here to stay.

It sounds the same and sometimes smiles but it is just a mask.
Trudging through each endless day and fumbling through each task.

The friend you had, the girl you loved is sadly no longer here.
That I seem to be the only one to realise has become my biggest fear.

I know that I am dead and gone but still here I seem to be.
Trying to pretend that I’m just the same old me.

Dear RL,
I regret to inform you
that I have moved on.
I have found others,
that will respect me
more than you ever will.
You won’t like me
if I tell you the truth.
It’s not me,
it’s definitely you.

Dear MH,
When I moved,
why didn’t you keep in touch?
Was I even your friend,
or just your puppet?
So bossy and controlling,
what did I ever do?
It’s not me,
it’s definitely you.

Dear CG,
Why?
Why did you only ever
start drama?
Trying to turn me
against my friends.
Have me for yourself.
Selfish.
You stuck to me like glue.
It’s not me,
it’s definitely you.

Dear RS,
All you ever wanted
was for us to be friends.
I cut you out of my life,
and I’m trying to bring you back in,
but I keep on making stupid mistakes.
I’m sorry, for everything,
and I think you would agree,
it’s not you,
it’s definitely me.