we lost ourselves in pieces,
because we promised we’d never do it all at once.
1.You’ll lose yourself in someones kisses. When you told yourself that you’d never live for someone else, you didn’t know that today his panted words are the oxygen that is filling your lungs.
2.You’re skin is buzzing and crawling, the trindles of smoke crashing against you hard enough to rock you off your feet. There’s an itch, but its too deep inside of you to scratch. The smoke starts knocking against you again and you being learning how to let the current carry you.
3.Inside jokes become awkward glances in the hall, and the people who used to make us laugh until it hurt, started hurting us for real.
4.Your dad used to push you on the swings. Your barefeet grazing a sky as bright as your future, but now hes anchoring you down, holding you back when your legs are kicking to push off the ground again. The wind tickling those childish feet is turning into mulch spiking splinters into the skin you thought was though, but isn’t tough enough.
5.Your bed has been made since Friday morning. The sheets are cold and the mascara stains in the pillow are starting to fade; because you can’t sleep in the same bed that’s covered by the quilt your grandma sewed when your skin is this *****. The shower stopped washing off your mistakes along time ago.
6.While sleeping in someone else’s bed, you forgot to pray. The sins began building up inside of you, another thing that won’t wash off. You’re done with people turning their eyes from your mistakes, but you aren’t strong enough to ask them to forgive you.
7.You’ve broken too many mirrors, and now you can’t tell the difference between a shattered one and a real one. Because they both shred you apart inside the same way. Those shards sticking in between the gaps of meals and the numbers on the scale and between the layers of your self-worth.
8.The butterflies drawn in the margins of your diary can’t fly as fast as your best friend’s car is down this back road. The stepping stones you leaped across don’t give you the same thrill of flying as unbuckling your seat belt to stick your head out the window and scream against the wind can. The flirt with death isn’t against dragons and monsters anymore, its with the cigarette between your finger and the creatures lurking in the darkness inside of you.
9.The things we promised our friends in middle school, words and childish innocence clutched in our pink palms, were forgotten until we’d cried hard enough to empty everything else from our heads. We lost ourselves in pieces and shed layers of skin until there weren’t anymore to peel away.