Is there really a difference
Post op pre op?
I liked to hold and touch and now
Not so much.
But the sadness was fuelled
in a contained manor.
I was still suicidal but I had purpose.
I gave myself purpose,
He was my purpose,
destructive purpose that made me smile
But it seeped out with alcohol;
I'm miserable to the core
No man can fix that
No friend can fix that
I don't even think I can fix that

I knew you were trouble from day one
Day dreamer;
Never grounded on what was here,
Always 10 steps ahead like chess.
Calling check mate before the plays are made,
I'm calling your bluff wether you hear me or not.
Day dreamer,
You've taken that away from me
and now I'm getting letters at
3am detailing your obscure reasoning
And list of regrets.
Let me sleep night walker,
And stay out of my life.

what am I other than drugs
burn marks
deep scars
cigarette smoke
and lengthy bar tabs.
Would you even like me
beside the fact;
do I even like me
beside the fact.

Do you ever miss me
I wonder strung out on
whatever it is I've done;
Do you see me in crowds,
in the moshpits at shows
only for her to turn around
and let you down
just a little bit.

***** and shucks aside
We roll this way and that
Your hand never leaves my side;
Wrapped around my waist line or
******* in my "adorable" red *******.
Your fingers never moved an inch
Away from me that night
Even at 3 when you realized you hogged
The whole blanket you wrapped it
Right back around me.
And you never left.
Never turned your back.
Hippy haired boy
Youre gonna destroy me.
Post ******* punker
With a heart so big I don't know how
To feel.

Old soul, your old eyes
those crows feet I used to sit and count
1, 2, 3, how many were there again?
I'm starting to forget;
The laugh, the voice,
the smell of your day old hair.
The desperation in your feet at night.
But that smile, I'll never forget.
The way you smiled at me,
one day, someday
I hope your smile fades like the rest.

Happy drunk stumbles on downtown streets
back to your place.
Eat me whole, leave me bare;
Is what I expected at least.
Your eyes looked at me and gleamed,
big arms pulling me in,
and slowly Gambino's jazz tunes turn to
soft snores of defeat.