This is not the story of the sun and moon. I am selfish and afraid of getting hurt. I will trace your veins and swim in the galaxies of your heart, but will never be able to stay with you.
2. My head is always preoccupied with the thought “Will I still get into Heaven if I **** myself?” I neglect to believe in Heaven, or Hell. Yet, I’m always wondering if a special pardon will be made.
3. I will leave you. Either because of death, or self-loathing; you will be left.
4. I become too infatuated with the fictional characters that live inside my books. I will finish a book, then curl into a ball and cry; a piece of me now torn and lost forever.
5. I will want to do nothing more than lay in bed with you and listen to my old records. To explore your mind, to explore your body. I will want all of you.
6. I will love you too deeply. The love would be like drowning in a black body of water. It will be heart-stopping. Crushing. More passionate than a fire set to burn down an entire village.
7. My mental illness will scare you away. You must be able to hold me while I am breaking. You must be able to control me while I’m angry. You must be able to stop me from jumping off of that balcony right above you, and I don’t think you can do that.
8. You must be prepared to spend days at a time in my bed, in the most innocent of ways. You must be able to just be with me. No talking, just being.
9. I oh, so desperately want to please you. You will get too attached.
10. Lastly, I am a broken individual. You can’t fix me. I need you to help me. I need you to be there for me. When I’m sobbing, I need you. When I think of my sister, I need you. When I get kicked out, I need you. I need you. I need you always.
                                And you simply can’t handle it.

Your cologne is still on my dress,
and it's haunting me now.
Just when I want to forget you,
your cologne is on my dress.
And your shirt is still in my closet,
how did this all fall through?
Your shirt is still in my closet.
Sometimes I put it on and pretend, pretend you still care.
And your ring is still on my finger.
Was there nothing in that promise?
I remember that night,
the night we became one.
The night I'll have to tell my daughter about when she turns 14.
Maybe I should take it off.
I still remember your voice,
and sometimes I scream so loud I can almost drown it out.
-
Forget everything you know about love,
and ***,
and death.
Because when you walked into my life, I realized that everything I knew was a watered-down version of passion.
Your kiss is still on my skin,
burning me,
painfully this time.
I used to like the burn.
Not anymore.
I was to slice my skin off,
just to stop feeling the burning.
Why be scared of hell,
when I already feel it?
And my neck, my neck is still bruised,
my thighs-are still bruised.
My lips, my lips are still sore,
and my back-it's still bleeding.
Your taste-is still on my tongue,
and somehow it feels like you're still holding my hand.
Even though you're not.
You're using that hand to pull my shirt over my head,
and as you lean over me-
I can still smell your ******* cologne.
Try not to get it on my clothes.
After tonight, after tonight
I want to forget you.
So I'll surrender tonight, but only tonight.
-
Funny what you think of after the wreckage.
My limbs are still intact,
and you're still on top of me.
I promised myself it would only be one last time.
But then you smiled,
and held my hand,
and tied me to the bed.
And now, now I can't leave.
Because your cologne is on my dress.
Your cologne is on my dress,
and I'm tied to this bed.
And your hands are on my chest.
And your lips are on my neck.
And your voice is in my head.
I'm trying to make sense of this mess,
but I can't.
I can't when your cologne is on my dress.
-
You told me that you wanted to be the should for me to cry on,
and you didn't care
if I ruined your shirt.
Funny how it worked out,
because you're the one with your hands around my throat.
I used to ask for it,
not anymore.
Not since your strong hands and smooth wit were replaced.
Replaced by sloppy drunkenness and quick slaps across the face.
-
I don't mind you using me.
I don't mind you eating me from the inside,
out.
Because even though you make parts of my body light up and ignite,
and even though you'll talk to me until 6 in the morning,
and
even though you'll let me pick the movies, you won't care to know me.
You won't care to ask me 'why.'
Your hands will still be around my neck.
I will still be tied to this bed.
Your hands will still be on my chest,
and,
your cologne will
never
leave
my
dress.

Hey Anna. I went to Manna today for the first time since your memorial. I thought I was ready but I was very, very wrong. As soon as I walked in I was instantly hit with that sinking feeling of realization... I miss you so much. When the service was over and all the people began walking out, I started searching very frantically. I think I thought that somehow, If I looked hard enough, I would see the flare of your red hair in the crowd of people. I cried when I didn't see you there. I mean, I guess I knew that I wouldn't see you, but I was just hoping... anyway, I miss you so much. Nothing is the same without you. I thought it would get easier with time, but it's just gotten harder. I just wish we could trade places, I'd do it gladly. I have a bestfriend, Anna. You would've liked her a lot. Her name is Michelle and she reminds me a lot of you. She is a very good person. You'd be so proud of that fact that I actually found a friend worth keeping.. You know, when I found out about the accident, It was Wednesday, as soon as I got home from school. I just screamed, and screamed, and screamed... I texted you when I found out. I said that I would never, ever forget you, and that I would always love you. I wish it would've been me. It's not even a selfish thing. I don't want you back just for me, but for you. It's horrible that you don't get to experience life just as it was getting so much better for you. You deserve the world, Anna. And for other people, to think, you did SO MUCH for others. You would've changed the world, I just know it. But you changed me, and I've changed others, because you helped me become who I am today. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! I get my drivers permit Friday! Isn't that awesome? You would've screamed and taken me to cold stone. I wouldn't want to eat in front of you, but you would've given me puppy dog eyes and I would've caved just like I always do. One time, I did something I really regret. My first thought was how disappointed you would've been, yet, at the same time, you would've been understanding. You would've told me to keep trying, and that it's going to get better. I know that when I landed myself in the hospital, you would've been the first one there. Heck, you probably would've even stayed the night with me and sing with me. Remember the last night I saw you alive? We laid down in your car and sang Neko Case. And then, when I was at my door, I ran back to give you another hug. I looked at you and said "Things are going to go so well for you. There is so much in store. I love you." I hugged you so, so, so tight. I just knew that I had to. Anna... I miss you. In every thunderstorm, I see you, and I remember how we use to watch the lightning. In every sunrise, and every time I go to the lake.. Remember the time I just sat and cried and cried and you held me in your arms? Remember when I told you my big secret, and it turned out that you had the same exact one? Remember when you read me your journal and cried? Remember when you saw some guy on the side of the road and honked because he had a beard? Do you remember me, Anna? I remember you. You are still real. You didn't leave. Every morning I wake up and expect a phone call, and every night I go to bed shattered because I didn't get it. Do you remember me, Anna? Do you miss me? How is it up there, is it everything you'd guessed? How are you, Anna? Are you doing well, because I'm not. I miss you. I miss you so much, Anna. I love you. ...
I need you. I miss you. It's selfish to want you, I know. I hope you're happy. I really, really, really hope you're doing well. I think about you every day. It's the thought of you that keeps me going... I love you, Anna.

10.) Do not go searching for him in the bars around your hometown. You will see his face, but not how you remember it. It will be warped, his mouth in the shape of a sly smile, and you will not be able to recognize it. That will destroy you.
9.) Do not drink your sadness away. No matter how hard you try to destroy the way he tastes with the sterilization of alcohol, it will still linger. It will become a stain, and you will be confused, because alcohol is supposed to make you forget. So do your liver a favor.
8.) You will not follow that advice. So when you do drink, keep your phone hidden in the same place you hid the drugs from him. If you don't hide your phone, you will call him and beg for another chance. That chance will come in the form of sloppy kisses and flushed skin. You will wake up the next morning wandering what happened, alone, skin still stinging.
7.) Stop calling him just to hear his voice. He doesn't even think about yours anymore. Stop thinking about the moans he made when he stretched. Stop thinking about the way he whispered "I love you," because when you do, it will lose all of its power, and all you'll be able to focus on was the fact that he never meant a word of it. That will be the moment you start to resent him.
6.) Stop ******* writing about him. It's not even him you write about anymore, he doesn't exist the same way to you. You're writing about how you wish he could be. You're blowing things out of proportion, and you're only hurting yourself. He will never read it. And if he does, all he will do is correct your spelling. So save your paper.
5.) Those pictures you saved? Delete them. The sooner you delete them, the sooner you can forget about his hands. The sooner you can forget about his eyes, which you thought were brown, but you later found out that they change into a brilliant mixture of colors in the sunlight. The sooner you delete the pictures, the sooner you can hopefully scratch every image of his perfection out of your ******* eyes. He still has your pictures. Not the ones you're hoping he still has. The others.
4.) Stop searching for him in every stranger. Stop picking out all the things that resemble him. That man across the street? He has a similar gait. The man walking towards you? He has a similar inquisitive look on his face. You may find the resemblance, but none of them will ever be the same as him. You will never see the same beautiful collarbones again. You will try to paint them. Throw your paint out.
3.) Stop hoping you'll run into him walking on the same trails as you. Yes, those trails house the secrets of your relationship, and yes, you take the time to cherish them. But all he does is walk all over them. He doesn't walk on the trails that have seen your blossoming relationship, he now walks on the pavement, not even a thought lingering in his head any longer. He told you that pavement is bad for your shins, but he doesn't care anymore. So stop walking there. Find a new trail.
2.) When you're laying in bed at night, stop thinking about how he should be laying next to you. Instead, turn his favorite record off and find solace in yourself. Your bed may be empty, but, didn't you feel the very same emptiness even while he was there?
1.) How to forget the man who broke your heart? Well, if you're one of the lucky ones, you'll fall in love with someone who makes you feel like even the universe is small compared to you. This part, well.. this part I'm still trying to figure out. I'll let you know.

Ever since I was a child
I slept with my baby blanket
It was my only source of comfort
When I grasped onto it, I felt safe
But then I met you
And I realized I didn't need my baby blanket anymore
You were my only source of comfort
When I grasped onto you, I felt safe
I fell in love with you
We would lie in bed,
And I would trace the planes of your chest
And I would swim in your veins
I knew your body better than I knew my own
And its only now, as I’m typing this that I realize that you never knew my body
You never traced my scars
You didn't drown in my veins
You didn't count my freckles
You grew distant
I would kiss your neck and run my fingers through your hair
It was my silent plea
I was begging you to stay with me
Then one day, you came over
I went straight to my bed, ready to start the ritual
I was dry and I was eager to swim again
But you just stood by my door
And traced the frame with your fingers, refusing to look me in the eye
I was worried, thousands of thoughts running through my head
You were a coward
You whispered the words that ended my world
I now understood why you never bothered to memorize my body
You were too busy memorizing someone else’s
And you watched me
As the color flooded out of my face,
You watched me hit the floor
You watched me cry
You never once met my eyes
You watched my world fall apart and you just left
Walked out of my room, as silent as a winter night
You never uttered the words “I’m sorry”
I died right in front of you, and you didn't do a thing
Every day I have to see you with her
My mouth fills with a bitter taste every time I see you kiss her
You flaunt your love in my face
And I feel ashamed
Stupid
Ignorant
That I gave you my mind, body, and soul
I memorized everything about you
What you ate for breakfast, your nervous ticks, and the way you flexed your hands when you were angry
And you gave me nothing
You tricked me
Your body tricked me into thinking it lived for my body
Starved for my body
Your words tricked me into loving you
You told me you loved me
But you don’t even know the meaning
I feel used
I gave you everything
You were my first
My world
My light
My life
And you gave me
Nothing
You are no longer my comfort
But the nightmare that haunts my once pleasant dreams
Sometimes, I still imagine you lying next to me
But then I feel even more alone
Because it was all a lie
You are now the fire that fuels my hatred
You are what made me hate this bitter world
And I will never forgive you
You used me
Lied to me
You are no longer my comfort
And I find myself missing my blanket more and more with each passing day

They say that looking doesn't commit things to memory, but that doesn't explain how I've memorized every curve of your body without laying a hand. That doesn't explain how I know where the sun hits your hair, because it's a few shades lighter. That doesn't explain how I know I'm in love with you without laying my lips anywhere on your-
They say that there's more to love than looks, so that explains how I feel about you. Your soul shines bright, and it blinds me. I put sunglasses on because I can't stand to not be looking at your beauty. Your thoughts scream out at me, and I love getting lost in your mind. Your mind is a beautiful messy thing. Just like you. Just like me. Just like us? Us? What is us? I love you and I don't know what to do. Babe. Baby girl. Love.
- I didn't do my work in class today because I was watching you read your book. I was watching you put your head into the crook of your elbow, and I was thinking to myself 'God I wish she would lay in my arms.'
-I remember watching you cover your arms with your sleeves, and I remember wanting to roll them back up and kiss the scars away. They say that looking doesn't commit things to memory, but that doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense because the juxtaposition of your eyes on my eyes, makes everything feel okay.
-I remember sitting in class. I remember sitting in class, and you were wearing a skirt and ******* it, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. I felt my gaze traveling up your legs, and I stopped myself from reaching over and touching you. I stopped myself because I knew it was for the better. I remember you reading your book, and staring at the pages and occasionally looking off into the distance. I always wondered what you were thinking.
-I remember hugging you and not wanting to let go.
-I remember sitting on the park bench, talking about the people I've ****** and looking at you. On the park bench. With the bruises on your neck, and the sparkle in your eyes, and oh god, I stopped myself. I stopped myself. I stopped myself.
- I remember waking up one morning after taking pills and chasing them with a few (4) bottles of *****. I remember waking up, and I remember wishing I was waking up to you. Because I know the day I wake up with you next to me will be the day I'm happy.
-I want to make you tea. I want to show you the world of low budget indie films. I want to make you-
I want you to see yourself through my eyes. Because through my eyes, you're the most beautiful creature on this hopeless earth. I hope you find happiness, and I hope you find love. I hope you find love. I hope you find love. I hope you find happiness. I hope you find love.
-I remember sitting on the stairs with you, and you were looking down at your hands probably thinking 'oh god what have I done.' I wanted to hold your hands then. So bad.
-I remember the first time you came over, you asked me a thousand questions and it made me so happy. You're so inquisitive. I remember you stopping conversation to go off and pick flowers. I still have them. I still have them. I still have them. I still have you. I still have you. I still have that-
Taste in my mouth. It tastes like regret. It takes like vulnerability, and it tastes like love. It tastes like the words I can't take back. The words I so desperately mean. Those words. The words. The words. 'I love you.'

No really, it's okay babe I adore you too, you can keep breaking my heart and expecting me to pick up all the pieces. It's okay, because I like being told that I'm second best, and I like being reserved for sloppy nights. So let me dive between your legs babe, no, really it's okay, you can tell me you don't like me then call me at 2 in the morning to come ****. No, really it's okay, it's okay because I liked you but you only liked my skin, but only when it was bare, and really, it's okay, because I like being ignored and I like second guessing myself, and my life, and I enjoy being punished. So babe let me please you, that's all I want to do because dear god, I just want to keep you. God knows I want to keep you, and how ******* cruel of him to keep raking me over the same coals over, and over, and ******* over until my skin doesn't know the difference between fire and your touch on my thighs begging for more. (maybe it is my fault) But when they began to close, you began to retreat. And *******, you'll never know how much I wanted you, and you'll never know how badly you hurt me, and you'll never know how badly I wanted you to want me. But you didn't want me, I was too real for you. I was too much of a human being, and you couldn't ******* handle it. I did things not because I enjoyed it, but because that's the only way I could get your attention. So really babe, it's okay. Keep talking to me until 4 in the morning when I have to be up at 5, keep changing normal conversations into sexts you won't remember in a week. And please, babe, keep ignoring me because if that's what you have to do to tolerate me every couple of months, then for gods sake, ******* do it. Keep vaguely answering my pleas with "yep," "yeah," and "haha." Please keep hurting me. Because I ******* need it, babe. Really, it's okay, I'm fine, I'm not filled with anxiety and on the night you talked to me, I didn't spend it in the bathroom getting sick. No babe, it's okay, I like sleeping in the bathtub and waking up in a cold sweat, and I like lingering on the good feelings because it makes it that much easier to forget about the bad ones. I deserve you. I deserve to be with someone who is so capable of dropping me like a penny in a wishing well, only to forget what your original intentions were. No. Babe, really. It's okay. I'll keep skipping over the same songs, and driving past the same spots, and running away from what's chasing me, because really, we all knew I was going to do that anyway. All my friends say that I looked so happy when I knew that you liked me but I don't think you ever did. And I'm afraid to ask you. Because the variable is already known, and I don't feel like accepting it. So I'll keep looking for 'x' even though it's right the **** in front of me. ******* Vanessa, get your **** together. Stop drinking every Wednesday night and waking up every Thursday morning wishing you were somewhere else. The people are right, Vanessa, you feel way too ******* much and maybe you should stop letting your existence as a human get in the way of you ******* the people you want to ****, because we both know he's not going to wait for your ***. So really, babe, it's okay. I'll keep searching while secretly holding space for you in my bed. You said yours was bigger, but trust me, it's not. It never was. So really babe, it's okay. it's okay. I told you that the thing I hated the most was lying, but really. It's okay.

(A) gloomy night with the rain falling on my
(B)ack, yet you're not here, you're never here. Please, just get in your
(C)ar. Come to my place, meet me at the
(D)iner where we first met. Turns out, it's
(E)xactly how we left it. And that's not even
(F)air, because we aren't how we used to be when we first
(G)ot here. We're different now, we drifted and you no longer love me and it feels like
(H)ell. Because I still love you. I always loved you. You were always my one and
(I) loved you. But that's the past, and now I'm
(J)ust a figment of your imagination- who the hell have I been
(K)idding? I was just a passing thought, the
(L)ittle rain droplet on the window that you follow, but,
(M)arvelously,
(N)ever remember.
(O)h lover, come to my place. I can make you your favorite kind of
(P)ancakes. I still remember how you
(Q)uestioned if I was ever really alive. I suppose you have your answer now.
(R)un, run far away because you're over me, but I still remember your middle name.
(T)ucker, your middle name was tucker and your first name was as
(U)nique and beautiful as you are. Do you remember how I would kiss your freckles? You'd get embarrassed, but that was my favorite kind of
(V)ernacular. Your cute, embarrassed language was so enticing, and I longed to hear you speak. The rain is falling on my back, and you're not here. That's probably a good thing. The rain is falling and its
(W)ashing away what remains of you from my
(X)enophobic skin. You're washing away and I'm so glad it finally happened.
(Y)ou're gone, you're ******* gone. You've been gone for a while now, you left a while ago, but it was me, who refused to let go of something so disgusting and yet somehow still amazing. You're gone now. You're gone, and I finally feel completely,
(Z)aftig.

I want you to love me. Or maybe I just want to feel the emotions that come with shaking hands running up my thigh. I want you. I want you like the planet wants someone to care about her. I care about you. *******, I care, but you don't call me anymore and I don't think that my mind is strong enough to hold the weight of your broken promises and your ******* excuses. No, my mind isn't strong enough, but I'll probably just ignore my intuition like I normally do. Like how whenever you kiss me, you disappear. Yeah, like that. I'll ignore the voice in my head telling me to leave and I'll bury my ambitions in your curly brown hair, because you're so enticing, and you know what you do to me. When we're laying in between my sheets on a hazy Sunday afternoon (always a Sunday- you loved the irony) with your arms wrapped so tightly around me that I can't ******* speak- i'll keep my mouth shut and quiet my thoughts and try not to think about it, because I want to get to know you, the real you. Not this ******* dominant charade you so cleverly act out. I want to see your mind, your soul. I want you to feel the rush of falling in love and I want it to frighten you. So- tell me, what fuels your writing? Who hurt you? Do you like dogs? What do you do when it rains? What are you afraid of? I hope it's not me and all the ideas I have collected at the bottom of an old dusty jar. And I hope you aren't afraid of the way i scream when it rains and how often I cry. I hope you aren't frightened by how I always keep quiet about my sister and what happened to her, and how I just stare out of the window for days. I hope it doesn't anger you- how I keep quiet about my ex lovers because every time you ask me about them, I can still feel the sting of a slap across my face. And I'm sorry I don't talk about my dad, it's just all so fresh and I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you, and how I'm so distant on occasion. I hope you aren't afraid of long walks and nature, because that's the only way to calm me down and stop the anxiety from spilling over my tightly sealed lid and- I hope you're afraid of space, because *******, I just want to be close to you. So tell me about your childhood, your fears, tell me about how you still sleep with a nightlight and how every time fireworks go off, you cry. Tell me about how much you love your family, and how much you hate yourself. Tell me about your longing for love because I promise, I promise I could give it to you. And tell me about how badly you want to be whole again, and how embarrassed you are of your dating experience. Tell me about how you're afraid of open water because it reminds you of all the space you have in your heart that isn't being filled. Tell me about how you never know how to end a poem and I promise, I promise I'll help you.

Where has the music gone? I don’t know.
We've lost our Lithium, especially our Spirit.  
Even Little Miss Strange has left our presence.
Where has the music gone? Could we possibly have some In Bloom?
Where has the music gone? It’s so hard to Imagine that she’s just disappeared.
It’s all just been a huge confusing Purple Haze since she’s left.
Where has the music gone? I think it’s becoming clearer.
So we light our candles and press on... For them, we press on.
Where has the music gone? She’s still here, she never left.
She just needs some new motivation.
Be the reason, make art.
No perfection, just feeling.
All Along The Watch Tower, the music is hidden.
Trapped in a Heart Shaped Box, waiting for release.
With A Little Help From My Friends, music will be a Blackbird to the World.
We just need to Come Together, and Breed passion.
Where has the music gone?
She’s right here.

All good things have gone,
And I wonder;
What do I have to live for anymore?
The love is gone,
The music is gone,
The light...
It's gone.
What do I have to live for?
I don't see any of these things ever coming back to me.
I don't even miss them.
Which scares me.
Never had any family,
Never had anyone to care about me.
I hate this town,
I hate this car,
The quiet.. is so violent.
Someone
Anyone
Help me?
Please?
What do I have to live for?
I don't know.
Help
Me
Find
A
Reason
Please.

And the sound of shattering glass sounds familiar and comforting. It sounds like home, feels like home. But you don't know what home is anymore. Is it the pain you feel when he ignores you? Or is it the bite of the blade you can't see, but can feel. Home is defined as 'the place where one lives permanently.' If that's the case, then home must be loneliness. Home must be your hugs, home must be the needle, home must be the drugs, it must be the ***** that still stains your rug. Because you can somehow feel all of these things at once, and it scares you. It scares you how comfortable you've become in all of this, and you want to get out. But home is permanent. Maybe you can run away. Where would you run to? Would you run to the girl who broke your heart? She's your home too. Would you run to his place and sleep in his bed? He'll use you and be gone the next day. Would you climb a mountain? You'd get discouraged and jump off. Or would you simply disappear? Disappearing has always been easy for you. Would you run through the smoke? Or sit there, breathe it in. Do you really want to run away? Or is that your enigmatic way of saying you want to stay? You want to stay home, stay in this fog because you don't know anything else. It feels like home but something is still missing. Maybe you can't run away, but you sure as hell can move out. So do it, move out. Move into her arms, because she's begging for a roommate, and probably wouldn't even make you pay the rent. Move into his mind, where he says there's not enough space for you, but you brought your boxes anyway. Move into yourself. You're lonely and you're body is calling out. You leave the vacancy sign there. Because you're tired of the familiar, the comforting. You moved out, you're homeless now. So tell me, was it everything you wanted and more? Because you're a nomad now, drifting from one persons arms to another's. Even though she's had her arms open this whole time. But the rent was due and you couldn't pay so you split. You split and you left and you won't come back. So, tell me, what is home? *******, what
Is
Home?
Home is her arms where you're not allowed to spend the night,
Home was his couch where he would **** your neck and not call for three days,
Home is in your bed, where you've staged your death a thousand times.
Home is in these words that you're writing right now, and ******* I wish you would just pay attention,
Home is in her eyes but every time you stare into them she apologizes and moves on,
Home was his arms where he held you too tight and you begged and begged for him just to talk to you, but no he wouldn't talk to you he'll never talk to you because more he wants more it's more he wants and you couldn't ******* give it to him, and
Home is in the sky where every night you tear at your wrists just to get there, and
Home is at the bottom of whatever bottle of ***** you're on now you can't remember because you're drunk you're always drunk and she's always sad and you can't help her and you hate yourself, and home
Home is in her sadness her self hatred,
Home is in the shards of glass behind your dresser that you so desperately reach for and,
Home is in the bar and in the streets and in their beds and you're always moving you're always moving, why can't you stay and,
Home is in her but like I said you can't pay the rent because it's already occupied and,
Home is in the confusion, and you say you want to move out but you don't, you don't want to move out because it adds to your ******* personality, makes you different, makes you mysterious, makes you special and, maybe once you become whole then you can move out. because whoever the **** is out there whether it be god or satan or allah or ******* buddha knows that you've written hundreds of goodbyes, and they're all in the nightstand next to your bed, and you want to move out but not out of the chaos but out of your body, out of your mind, out of your soul because- Every time, every time you called someone, or something home..they moved out. Vacated the premises. Missed the rent. And now your real estate is being foreclosed on and dear god, dear god you just want to move out.

A piece of me died tonight
A physical tearing- The person I once was and the person I am today
I've changed and there's nothing I can do
I thought mothers were supposed to care after their daughters-
Not mine
Tonight, my mother made a choice-
A very definitive one-
Between me and a man
She chose the man
My mother told me that I'd always be her number one
Tonight, she let a man yell at me
Tonight, she let a man hit me
Tonight, she let a man, who is not my father, make me cry
Tonight, she watched a man yell at me, and she sat there
As I saw the violence in his eyes
While she saw the hurt in mine
She chose the man
She later came in my room that night and tried to justify what he'd done
Tried to justify what she had done
"He was just angry"
"You came in at the wrong time"
"You knew better"
But by then it was too late
The separation had already begun
And now I can hear the popping of wine corks
And the sound of a mans fist on my mothers skin
I can hear my sister crying in the room next to me, and I long to hold her
I can hear my dogs yelping and the World stopping
I can hear the unscrewing of a child's lock on a cap of prescription pills,
And I swear to God I can hear the sound of pills being swallowed down my mothers throat
And I have never wished to go deaf before this night
Tonight, my mother chose a man over me
Now its too late for justification,
I have all the answers to anything I'd ever want to know
The confirmation of the fact that I am completely alone-
Is nothing new to me