Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

Waiting on the beach
For the ship to come back.
Waiting for years
For a mythical life
The time I have waited
For your ship to return,
But you saw your way home
And I am in denial
You are never coming back

Food runs scarce
And fresh water is hard to find
I shall die before I realize,
I can make my own boat to survive.

Each curl of conversation
stills my tongue, half-sentences
stranded in the mire
of biting reason

words silently form
protests, defenses
reasons and intentions

worthless to ears already fed
with the insistent conundrum
accompanying every attempt
at reconciliation.

I act, I react—
I did not impact your life the exact way you did mine.
You attract me.

I act, I react—
You were the one fact
I could never forget
and I was abstract.
I know I was only there to distract you
from your other lover
who did not love you
as much as I.

I act, I react
and I follow the path
that subtracts
you
from
me.

A day where that person
does not want to talk,
anger comes out as tears
danger, seems to be clear.

A day where that expectation
did its revenge on me,
as I was piling it on,
like a water overflowing into a pond.

A day where that cry
without your knowledge,
just for one person's urge,
no fruit for any try.

A day where your destination
questions you back,
as you carry book in a big bag,
killing yourself inside, curves outside.