I turn the shower water on to a piping hot.
Hestitant but without backing out I enter.
I cringe a little as the droplets ambush me.

I allow the hot to hurt me.
I deserve the pain.

I sit in the middle of the tub and close my eyes.
The pit and patters of the water sooth my soul.
I close my eyes before the boiling water burns them, I can still feel it against my eyelids.
My makeup runs down and as if cued..
So do my tears.

I try to remember what it was like to feel love from another and I can't recall it.
Every time you made me smile was replaced with every time you made me angry.
Every time you called me beautiful was replaced with every time you made me feel hideous.
I silently cry to avoid anyone from listening.

Each water drop a memory of ours.
Good and bad.
All ending the same however;
down the drain.

The steam became too much to handle and I am suffocating. Unable to breathe anymore.
But the feeling is similar to how I felt with you.

The piping hot water may sting and burn and leave me sore, but it's the only thing I can feel anymore.

Back in a time where our bodies never ceased to touch, I remembered every detail.
The warmth of your breath on my neck as you lowered your kisses to my stomach.
Sending goosebumps all over my arms, making me release sweet soft gasps.
The way your hand caressed my face as you looked into my eyes.
Your sweet warm brown eyes.
The way we began to feel the increase of warmth in our bodies.
The way we began to breathe in any air we could while locking lips.
Oh how surreal it was to see your body bare in front of me, your soft skin against mine.
Excited, I couldn't keep up. I couldn't breathe.
You took my breath away with every ******, with every heartbeat.
How beautiful my name sounded when you whispered it into my ear.
How beautiful you made me feel.

We wouldn't stop.
We couldn't stop.
We didn't want to stop.

With all that passion, you'd call me crazy to forget, but I did.
I lay on my bed and close my eyes to begin to recall every provocative move we made.
I can't name a single thing.
Every inch of skin on me that you kissed, no traces.
As if every kiss evaporated into our atmosphere of evanescent love.
I twist and turn and try again.
I don't remember the color of your eyes.
I don't remember the love we had in mind.
I can't recall the sound of your voice and I smiled in joy.
I can't recall the feeling of you entering my body both physically and mentally.
Was it ever even real?
What we did on a day to day basis, why can't I remember?

Another day, another memory lost.

All my life I've been lectured to stay away from the dangerous things in life.
Stray animals, unknown substances, drugs, alcohol, and the things in between.
But no one ever warned me about the dangers of falling in love.
The way it resembles all the listed dangers.
Oh how love can wound my heart as if it has clawed it bit by bit.
Oh how love is so world known yet so strange and confusing.
Oh how love takes me to the highest clouds with addiction being the aftermath.
Oh how love can make me fumble, release my secrets, and bring me a pounding ache the morning after.
But no one ever warned me about the dangers of falling in love.
Maybe because love in all reality is far worse than any spiked drink.
Worse than a pill that drives me insane.
Worse than being mauled by sharp teeth and claws.
Love is more of a carcinogen.
Flowing through my bloodstream, unwanted, hurtful.
A substance I can't remove, despite the many attempts.
Love is far too dangerous for one to speak of.
Love is something so dangerous we refuse to accept it as an actual threat.

I spend my days and night often conjuring up scenarios of you and me.
Wishing and hoping to one day feel your hand in mine, and your hands on my body.
Laying down I close my eyes and hear my heartbeat.
Thump, thump, thump.
Each beat matching the sound of the throbbing in my head after every night of painful thinking.
Each beat a hit from reality to remind me that we will never be.
I adore your sweetness and soft ****** features.
Every word you spare me lifts my heart from the pit of my stomach.
Giving me the slightest of attention is close enough to a caress for my soul.
But you don't know what you mean to me.
You don't understand how it feels when I look for you and you never look back.
You'd be the cactus I'd desperately search for in a piping hot desert.

I'm just one of the many daisies in your garden of admirers.

At fourteen I swore I knew the world. I swore I've been through everything and anything life has to offer.
A lot more than my age and face told.
But then you came along.
And no body warned me, no body prepared me for that.
The second I laid my eyes on you, I entered an entirely new world.
Perfection.
Bliss.
Love.
I felt as if your mere presence was the plane ticket to paradise, a staircase to heaven.

But everything that goes up must come down.
And we did.
The good vibes and good times were swept up and swallowed by a wave of incompatibility.
I was drowning. You weren't there to help anymore.  

I can't believe the things we've endured.
I can't believe I lost years of my life to such a young boy.
No, not young in age, in which we are the same.
But young in mind and soul.

"It get's better."
Though I'd like to find solace in three mere words, I cannot.
Three words.
Isn't it funny how unlucky that number can be.
Isn't it funny how three words can make or break our souls.
"I love you."
"I hate you."

Three words.