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Welcome to my Sunday Night.

12:50 AM
Wide awake from the adderall
I swallowed to chase my need
for achievement

1:03
After Achieving approximately
zero
of my work
I find myself fully indulging
In the little
teenaged
demon
on my shoulder.

As she encourages
The Rapid Fire  
of
Clicks

That lead to your
Facebook Page

1:04
I'm paging through photos of your
lovers past

I
Stop
and
Stare

at Her

And So begins
The Laundry List
of comparisons

She has a better jawline than mine.
Her eyes are browner than mine?
Her gaze is Piercing
She's so edgy
She's so original

She's basically
Perfect

1:35
At this point
I've


Paced

Approximately 205 Circles
Around My Room

Listed

About 80 Reasons
Why she's Better than me

Crawled

Into a Fetal Position
Of Panic

Concluded

That I could
Never
Make You as Happy as She Did

Wondered

How I could have been so
Foolish

Concocted

37 Schemes for Finding
A Way Out

Imagined

You calling her
"Baby"

Over
and
Over
and
Over
and
Over

Cried

Searching for the emotions I'd gambled
Like Poker Chips

Throwing them all in,
as a Sentiment to my
Commitment

1:40
I'm Asking Myself
1:41
How would I ever give him what he needed?
1:42
How could I be the Girl he'd end up with?
1:43
Why would I believe that I was right for him?

Each minute delivering haymaker Questions,
Each more crushing than the last.

And as my mind prepared for its Nightly Death

I Pause.

1:45
Checking the date that these photos found Origin
1:46
Approximately
3 Years

Since it was all over.

3 Years since the last
I
Love
You

Post

More than 2 Years since
The last photo that his eyes
Sang
Genuine Love Songs.

3 Years that

Their hearts had not been
beating each others names.

1:47
My Brain drags back
The Questions of Before
Torturing Me.

1:48
But Suddenly
There's a **** inside me
My heart is playing
defense

1:49
How Could I give him what he wanted?

Because my heart beats for the seconds in which your smile resides.

Because I'll accept nothing less than what you deserve, sun and stars alike.

1:52
How could I be the girl he'd end up with?

Because 3 Years is enough time to refine your tastes.

Because I'm in love with you today, and today you kissed me
With your eyes closed.

Because that smile doesn't belong to her anymore.

1:55
Why would I believe that I was right for him?

Because you deserve someone to love you like only I can.

Because I am a fighter.
I fight for what's right.
And every part of me is fighting for us.

Because I will not be driven away by shadows that
leave
as Darkness Descends.

I am there in the nights when
goosebumps
chill.

I am there when
I can only be
felt.

I am there
to create a smile that
can only be
heard.

Who are you to believe so strongly in a pipe dream?

2:00
I am the hopeless romantic.
2:05
I am the one whose got nothing left to lose.  
2:10
I am the one who wears that title as a Badge of Honor.
2:15
I am the one who will fight the world in protection of that tribute.
2:20
With every swipe of my pen in a
love letter
2:30
With every kiss
fueled like a
right hook
2:40
With every second
shoving toward making
You Happy
2:50
Who are you to claim him
"yours"?

I'm the one who refuses to get lazy with time.
I'm the one who will never say things out of spite.
I'm the one who has committed to their joy.

3:00
Who am I?

I'm the girl who will show him how to be loved.

That's ******* who.
I don't know how I feel about this.
I stare at you and feel the empty air
begging to be filled with
the admirations festering in my lungs

And as thoughts form flavor on
my lips,
I choke them back and **** them
with the smoky cancer

I exhale in a thick white stream
and hope that it could be
enough of a
screen to hide my eyes
and the hole I'm boring
into your face.

I pray that if you
breathe it in,
you can taste the
honeyed intentions

I fill space with common talk
that distracts from the reality in
which real feelings burn quickly
and leave empty an air that you
ignore.

I swallow it like absynthe
as my jaw clenches with
the weight of my masochistic heart.
I can't write music,
I don't write lyrics.

My poetry doesn't sound like that.

My pen doesn't print words into chord formations,
which,

Admittedly is frustrating because all I want to do is sing to you

But I cannot use a staff to frame my sentiments

And while I pride myself in the power of my pen,

I still dream of a world that I could tell a few words to whistle your tune

All day I dream of music,

Just a note to give to you.
Lips like fire,

She scorches the town,

Leaving Ashen faces as signs of her affection.

Words like water,

steaming the lines of reality into

Smudged intentions.

Spine in flex formation,

She flips into memories, 

Avoiding snags.

Her brain in carefully curled spirals,
Dyed the intelligence that she deems fit.

She plasters their words over the fragile 

Threads that make her fly.

She buries herself in reflections, 
Willing away anything unseemly mortal.

Eyes like the plague,

Infecting those who look too close.

Hands like claws, 

Engraving pleasure scars across 
Your form.

Breathing in security from diluted sources,

Traced with innocence and lust.

She grows addicted.

She looks in curiosity, 

She hears the auto-tuned heartsong,

She smells with weakening heart, 

She feels the onset of withdrawal,

**She Bites
Denial of the obvious

I'm just sad today and when it stops raining then I can get a fresh look at this world and see a not so blurry outlook that melds all the colors into grey

Anger at your brain matter

Why wasn't I born into the world right side up, we joked about how difficult I was but is it really a joke when 18 years later I'm wailing out for the same breath of air that I was born needing

Bargaining with the disorders

I have symptoms of Anxiety Disorders but I could also be schizophrenic so maybe we can strike a golden medium of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder so at least then I can create an insane system of disorderly organization.

Depression

How often can you feel sad before you grow desolate and the drear wears away at the valleys on your face and pins you down into a final posture of the broken

Acceptance

I'll Let You know
I grow weary of crafting words that are spun together
feeling as if there is a beauty spurting from my pain
because the words are still marching from your wellspring
and they're saturated in your sticky intoxication
It forces me to taste the sour fact that
the fire you set to my life still burns
and decimates ties strewn out of feeble love attempts
No matter the count of the condemnations of our life
you still dwell inside of my every word
and all of my metaphors
My vocabulary is limited to you and
you drag me below the pool of new words waiting on the surface
So I rewrite the same sentiments that play between
self loathing
heartbreak
and love

Write where you want me.
What's sad is that I've lived a million different lives in my head
a million lives that all included us

And the one life I have to live exists independently of any remnant of we.
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