If no one can make you feel inferior without your consent
does that mean I let you make me feel like ****?
And if this is true how do I stop giving in to you?
You said you like that I let you take control
but if I'm letting you do this then doesn't that mean I'm
the one with the power?

I wrote a million lines just for you
a bunch of words I never wanted you to read
Now you've found them, you found me.
You read a few lines about loving some one else
and even more about ******* you,
Sleeping in your bed meant more than loving him.
You knew me better than he ever could,
more than I ever gave you credit for.
Yet we do not know how to love,
ourselves or each other.
We are star crossed and completely aware
that we have been ****** from the start.

My heart skips when I hear you
Whispering all the things you
can never say to me sober
And much like the hitch in your breath
every time I moan your name,
I tend to get stuck on the little details
like how you act as if the world isn't
pushing it's weight into your shoulders
And I wish you knew that it was
pushing on me too
bearing down on all of the
weakest parts of us.

Sleeping in your bed, next to you
For the first time
Is far more intimate than I'd like to admit
But the bobby pins on your window sill
Remind me that you are not mine
I am nothing more than a warm body
To slide into when you get bored
constantly reminding myself I am
Good enough, that your indifference
Is reason enough to walk away
But I don't walk away, I follow
The familiar path to your front door
And in a tangle of legs and sheets
I come undone

The smoke fills
lungs and pages
pressed
In ink
between lips

And the satisfaction
Of feeling something else
No, someone else
With their hands in my hair
And the feel of skin
Pressed against mine

And my mom caught us,
"I know why you wanted me to leave"
I won't tell her that
He ****** me on her couch
And right there on the
Living room floor
As the sun came up

you used to meet me in my dreams
after every quiet morning and late night
you were always there
just waiting for me to come back to you
and although they've become less frequent
i still see you every now and then
but i miss you more than any of these words
will ever let you understand.
you whisper “i’ll see you in dreamland”
and fall into your bed but i’m still here
and you’re not coming back.

we’ve talked a few times
a couple of months after
we agreed to never speak again
and I got it this time.
we are no good for each other
we have chemistry and
I got burned
by your heat
in your car and in your
bed where you sleep alone
most days
i’m sleeping with anyone else
just to keep warm.
and I will always do this
no matter whom I’d rather next to me
because this is who i am.
I play games and never reciprocate feelings.
we both felt it this time
and too afraid to light a match
holding dynamite in our hands.
we ran.

Fear is a curious thing
It can hold you in place
Or propel you into the unknown
But all of us have one
some of us even face ours
and some of us hide from them,
But another will always follow

Fear isnt always terror
In life or death situations
Fear is largely just a discomfort
with an idea or hypothetical situation
people mould their lives around
This notion, let it twist their vision
And harden their hearts
Or show them the strength of their faith
In man and god, devils and angels, themselves.

You are quicksand
and I am always fighting back,
sinking fast
into you.
Your dirt fills my mouth
and my smoker's lungs.
You pull me under
like an anchor tethered to a ship
I drown in a sea
of you.

you always know when to listen
and when to speak
in the softest voice i’ve ever heard.

you have the warmest hugs
and the kindest heart,
so pure and good.

smiles from you remind me of
sunshine on my face in the spring
where all the grass is green
and the leaves have yet to change
and you’re still here

We strip each other bare
in the name of ***
I have never felt so exposed
as I am, tangled in your limbs and blankets
illuminated by the light of your computer monitor
playing something I've long forgotten the name of.
I feel it after I've returned to my own bed
I am still stripped bare because you are under my skin
and I scrub until I am rubbed raw
but I can feel your hands, covering me
and I can smell your scent on all of my clothes
in a heap on the floor, taunting me.

I know it was mostly me, I asked too much
you gave everything, still.
I apologise, I could not handle your particular brand of crazy
or your self-righteous attitude.
It was always something I'd said or done
and it gave me thrills to wind you up.

Then you snapped, slapping and choking
over a question about a film.
I screamed so loud that your father woke up.
He didn't do a **** thing.

Stranded in a strange city, broke and phoneless
I stayed.

You spent the night on the couch while I cried
alone in your bed.
We fought again the next morning
over the busted radio in your ******* car.
You slammed the breaks and smashed my head
and I knew then that I did not love you
still, I stayed.
for a week or two
and then I called it quits,

I still don't blame you,
because *I stayed

They don’t tell you how much it hurts
when you’re cut open and exposed
or how messy your failed attempts
at cleaning yourself up can get
wires get crossed and lines are drawn
and you hit hard but I hit harder
so you call me crazy, I thought you knew
you expected psychotic girlfriend ****
that was never who I was,
I’m scared stiff, hiding in my bed
cause I’ve been seeing **** again
and you could never handle that

You ran circles around me and
I am dizzy from watching you spin

I carved a heart into my skin
I just wanted to feel something, anything
other than you
but it only made my tears fall faster
and I used a razor blade to scratch out your name
a new scar to cover up all the ones you'd left.
I used to smash light bulbs,
the pieces hidden in an old shoe box
and use them to tear apart my wrist.
I've moved on to killing myself in other ways
with boys, *****, and pills
but none of that compares to hiding
blood soaked wrists.

With one phone call my world fractured,
a short drive to the ER and it had shattered

Im used to tears and the ever present sadness
But nothing feels as devastating
As the moment I lost you

I stared at you, lying there
Your fingers turning blue
I felt your skin grow cold
I kissed your forehead, your cheek,
Your beautiful blue eyes
Hidden behind lids
never opening again
My tears fell onto your face, in your hair,
They soaked part of your hospital gown
I begged for you to wake up
Please, I pleaded
I couldn't believe that I would never
See you smile, hear your laugh, your voice again.

You fell in love with a monster
And he made you believe
He was all you'd ever need,
With a tiny *****, he took you away from me
This monster stole everything you had
Your little girl, your faith, your family,
Until he took the last thing you could give

I think about those last moments
Before he ****** you all the way in
Were you scared? Alone?
Did you see it coming
Or was it quick?

I've never been so unafraid of falling
knowing you are there,
catching me

Fingers intertwined and a string
stretching thousands of miles
across rugged terrain
you've got me
all tangled up
and wrapped around your finger

I used to be afraid of committing
to anyone and anything
but you hit me like a heavy rain
in the middle of a drought,
knocking me off of my feet
and your current has pulled me
under your covers
and I've never been so content to drown

to end an awful year
I kissed someone
and ****** someone else,
he left bruises
in the shape of his hands
and scratches covering my back
just the way I like it
but the entire time i couldn’t help
wishing he was anyone else

Maybe even the tall one
with the pretty smile and
really good ****
whom I met on the train
or maybe he could have been
the one that ****** me standing,
holding me in the middle of the living room
all bulging muscles and dark skin

or the boy I’ve spent 5 years
trying to get to admit he cares
about more than just my small body
writhing underneath his
and I’ll continue searching
for something I’m missing
and when I don’t find it in a lover
I’ll disappear and search for
anything else to keep me
from getting too attached

We spent the time on our backs
engulfed in blankets and your computer light
and I slept while you worked
your brother made me a tv dinner
and i asked you why you treat me this way
on the drive home
I can't remember your answer anymore
but i know I held my tears until I made it
to the front door

I will not get on my knees
And bow at your feet
Or beg and plead
For you to stay here
And cuddle me in
Like you always did.
I do not need you
Or your voice
Raised against mine
Acting as if you can
sweep me off of my feet
Just to collide with the ground,
Again and again
Using only hands and lips, you
Left marks on my bones and
your scent covering my skin.
Tracing lines down my spine
you read each vertabrae
like your favourite book,
Again and again.
And I have given chances
One, two, and three.
I've since stopped trying to
deny you, and my protests
an attempt to convince you
and myself
that I am strong enough to say no
but it always comes out as
yes, yes, yes.

I never thought about
the way my voice sounds
when I'm half asleep
or
the way I laugh at everything you say
and all of your favourite parts of me
have become
my favourite too.

The way you sound when you're half asleep
mumbling "come here babe."
has become my favourite phrase
along with the way
you say my name,
when I wake up at 3 am
afraid of the monsters in my dreams.

You read my favourite poems
ask about my day and
I could listen to you go on forever
memorizing the way you sound
when you speak
softly
the butterflies in my stomach
take flight.

I see people writing about love and being together,
lazy Sunday's and kisses in the rain, late dinners
and holding hands or
a stroll in the park on a warm spring day.

You're enslaved to overly romanticized *******
and frankly when I think of doing any of these things
I want to ***** all over your pretty sun dresses.
because feelings are hard and happiness is a farce.

You waste days, weeks, and months worrying about finding
someone to spend forever with and for what?
To be disappointed with your unrealistic expectations
in that which love should be?

Spare me the *******, I'm over this.
When your happiness depends on someone else
you are not living at all.

I let you in and you’re running away
like a scared little girl, the way I used to be
before boys and best friends
made me grow skin, tough as an elephant

and I refuse to run forever,
from life and all of things that can **** up
and miss all the beautiful parts
you can’t see
the beauty in butterflies if you refuse to stop

You say you can turn it off, if you wanted to
I say they were never real
if you can make them disappear

I would have never chose you if that were the case.

We never promise forever and always
but we're always planning for the future
because that's all we can do
to keep us sane
and I feel just a little bit crazy for
thinking about you
and us
and everything we're going to do
all the little moments
and the big ones too.
it's always
you
you
you.

You know little bits of who i am
But a few scattered pieces do not define Me
Even if you know exactly what to say
to get me back to your room
And how to get back at me
When i stop complying

I can't keep up with the changing of tides
but i will keep our secret
About the night you told me to leave,
I didn't cry until i hit the pavement,
Fat angry tears,
pulling the fight from behind my lids
Then,
Slow and steady streams punctuated by
gasping sobs as i ran through now familiar streets
To an apartment and
A father i spent years running from

I know the ebb and flow of you,
The ripples of your  muscles
Pull me in to a rocky shore
And if i don't run fast
Over jagged rocks and broken glass
I will drown in your sea

I’ve always had a morbid curiosity
about the way it felt to die
and if you really see
all of those moments
flash before your eyes
or does your spirit
soar towards a light?
do you go directly to paradise,
or plunge into purgatory?
do you find out the truth
about gods and men?
does death surround you in darkness
like a burnt out match?
It always comes back to
Is death really the end?

I've been biting my cheek to keep from grinding my teeth,
clenched jaw, I can barely speak.
You make my blood boil while my heart is skipping beats.
The line between love and hate is faded and repainted
time and time again.
You're all of my worst habits aggregated,
and I can't quit one or you
to save my life.
Like you did, when I lost everything and almost everyone.
You

We got caught coming out of your shower
and you used your body to hide mine
leading me straight to your bed
where we spend our time in a strictly biblical sense.
and I keep quiet about the love of my life
somewhere in the middle of the Pacific
who will never know about the
terrible things I do
naked and on top of you.

I know that you are not responsible
for picking up the pieces of my
constantly shattering emotional state
just as I am not responsible for yours
but I shouldn't feel as if I can't tell you
when I'm having a **** day just because
you're stressed out too
and you have other priorities that don't
have anything to do with me.
Am I selfish for wanting to be
part of those things?

I could go on for days about your hair and eyes and lips,
soft, pink, and cool on mine. I could talk about your hands,
so large against my own and how you towered over me,
standing at almost 7 feet. I can talk of your skin, so pale and
covered in dark hair and the way your beard felt as it rubbed
against my face and then between my thighs.
I could speak of your physical presence but none of that matters
because you still chose to leave.

I have never met someone so intent
on letting me collapse, breathless and
shaking, over and over again
and knowing how I feel
you lead me
straight to your bed
and I am free when you are underneath me
only then do I forget that this will never be
the right decision.
Someone once said the definition of crazy
is doing something over and over expecting different results
The truth is I am crazy
for chasing a dream
that has a snowballs chance in hell
and like you said
*it's just ***.

**** is always changing
but some things stay the same
like my heart and how it beats
when you call at three am.
Your voice whispering in my ear
and the way you sound saying
my name, or how strange it is
that you know all the
little bits and pieces,
of me since that very first week.
Like talking things out with me
when I get a little too mean
instead of yelling and saying nasty things
and the understanding when we need
to take a step back in order to move forward.
The best part of you knowing
all the parts of me is that
I know you.