First stick, in the morning
Telling myself that you can do this thing
Still not yet convinced, second stick
Telling myself that It's not worth it, flick
Third stick, saying I don't give a ****
Breathe, breathe
It's hard to breathe
Fourth stick, telling myself that
I deserve someone better
Fifth stick, I'm so fed up with everything
Sixth stick, do I want her back?
yes? no? I dont know what to act
Seventh stick, why am I like this?
I don't understand, trying to make sense of this
Eight stick, do you still think of me?
Lungs intoxicated, staying alive as long as I can
Let me breathe normally once again

exempt from your hands,
from your cruel demeanor,
from your lies,
from everything that is you.
looking at you makes me sick,
and the thought that one day i will have to return to you,
to stand over your grave,
and stare at your pale face,
isn't enough to make me happy.
i need to know,
that you won't ever hurt another again,
like you did me.
i have to be certain.
and until then,
i won't rest.

Will you remember me?
My smile, my teeth, the feel of my lips?
Or my laugh?
The way I held your hand?
I always made sure our pinkies were wrapped together.
How about the first time I told you I loved you?
Will you remember any of it?
I know we ended five months ago but I can't help but to want you still.
And hope that you want me too.
Do you remember the time that we snuck into the grocery store at 5 am and ate all of their kisses?
We threw up all day after that.
But, it was with you, so it was worth it.
Oh, there's the time when we made love on top of your roof.
It was cold, but you made me warm.
You told me you loved me right after.
I hung onto those words.
I still do.
Will you do any of these things with her?
Will she make you squirt a vanilla milkshake out of your nose like I did?
Do you lose yourself in her the way you did with me?
Did she become you, and you, her?
Was there a time when you couldn't tell the difference, because you two were so alike?
We loved each other for three years and although you're ready to let go, i'm not.
I miss you.

you can't help but stare
and stare
and stare
until you hate everything about your face
how many freckles you have
pimples
it can only cover the scars for so long
the insecurities for so long
lips coated in thick red
eyes you coat with liner and eye shadow
face caked with foundation
baked with powder
contoured to the gods
eyebrows on fleek
you slay
sometimes you don't recognize yourself in the mirror
and it makes you happy because you can't imagine living the rest of your life looking you without make-up.
will you ever love you?
you, without the makeup?