I am tired of being disposable.
I am tired of being filled to the brim with secrets and late night phone calls and then tossed away like garbage, like our friendship was never real.
I am tired of being the person that is spoken over in every conversation, like my words are just swept up by the wind in a snowstorm, unheard and meaningless.
I am tired of being talked to to fill your boredom until something better comes along.
(I am tired of being inadequate to every other person)
I am tired of having kisses trailed down my body, and having those same lips say goodbye so soon, because I am not enough to stick around.
I am ******* tired of being disposable.

We kissed so much
I would come home hiding my swollen lips.
And you sat with me for my first psychiatrist appointment,
and told me everything was going to be okay.
So i engulfed myself in you,
and ended up drowning.
A simple chemical imbalance was too ****** up for you.
I would get home and the only things swollen were my eyes.
Why would you tell me you would teach me how to swim,
and then hold my head under the water?

Wrapped in my comforter at 2 am
Makes me realize how terrifying nighttime is,
It's not the dark I'm scared of anymore,
Or monsters under my bed.
It's the Tornado of thoughts
Making my head spin.

I've been turning the water on hot
In the shower lately,
Hoping to boil the goosebumps that
Creep up my flesh and the
Thoughts that crawl into my mind.
I've been scrubbing my skin and lips raw,
Because I still feel your finger tips
Running down my body
And your lips brushing mine,
And it ******* hurts.

I had been drowning,
Yet not fully engulfed in the waves.
Trapped in a daze of being numb to any feeling at all.
No sadness
No happiness either.
I am finally emerging, and taking a fresh breath of air.
I never knew I would be so happy
To be able to cry,
To smile,
To feel anything.

I realized as my friends shared a cigarette in the car that the smell reminds me of friday afternoon drives and not of sitting on your porch those summer nights, entangled in your arms and the ribbons of smoke.
Now as the smoke escapes out the car window, so do the remaining thoughts of you.

I don't want to miss you.
But we lose over a million skin cells
In a 24- hour period
And it's been 22 days since I've touched you, and that skin is long gone.
I drink more and more to try to forget the color of your eyes, or the way your voice sounded when we would wake up.
It's not the ***** that makes my head spin it's the ******* memories that are branded into my brain.
I miss you.