Do you ever fall
So in love with someone
That it makes you sick to see them?
Not because
You don't like them
but because
Can't you have them?
Of course, you can't.
well, now you know
how I feel
about you.
Because I have dragged myself
into a pothole of feelings
that I cannot drive out of
and no matter how many people are pushing the car
I cannot move
because there is no road
on the other side of love,
only a cliff,
where memories hang and trucks fall.
so I will trek on,
sick to my stomach with affection,
and every time I see you,
I will fall off again.

I guess you got sick
Of all the love I put into you
And I guess that affection
Just wasn't your style
And I hope that you remember
That tv show we watched together
With the cassette tapes
And I hope you realize
That I went out with a microphone
Instead of a bang
And I went out with a cassette recorder
In place of a casket
And on my will, you'll find
That I left you a box
Full of marked tapes
And a cassette player.
And I hope you press play and hear my voice
And I hope your voice cracks and you start to cry
Because I hope you realize
That these tapes are full of the love songs I wrote you
But never sang you
And I hope you realize
That we were never meant to be,
But that didn't make it hurt any less.
So just press play,
Over and over,
And remember that I'm just a broken tape recorder
Wound up one too many times.

They say
You never forget the first person you fall in love with
And maybe that's true
But if that's true,
How did I forget how loving myself felt like?
How did I forget
To love what I am
As I am?
And why do I think of some other person as the first one I loved, because I loved them, but I loved myself first.
And I don't anymore.
And I want to.
So if you never forget your first love,
Where did my love go?

It's Thursday. You've just told me how you really feel. How the sky we painted blue has turned to grey, How the stars I captured for you began to fade.
One word, Ten letters.
Shattered.
It's Friday. I Haven't talked to anyone in hours. I can't get out of bed or bring myself to leave the house.
One word, Five letters.
Tired.
It's Saturday. I'm pushing away the thought of you, and I'm wiping away the words you stained my skin with. I'm out with friends, but I'm all alone.
One word, nine letters.
Isolation.
It's Sunday, And your voice is forever bouncing around my skull as I wipe away the words I have left to give to you.
One word, seven letters.
Falling.
It's Monday. A day I dread regardless of the event or time, but a day I can't get through with the weight of the world and the weight of your woes on my shoulders.
One word, Four letters.
Lost.
It's Tuesday. I haven't talked to you since you crushed my heart under your foot, laughing the whole way. I don't care if you've destroyed me, because I would give anything to hear your laugh.
One word, Seven Letters.
Missing.
It's Wednesday. No one is sure how okay I am. I stopped talking two days ago. I only watch as everyone carries on without my conversation, and only watch as everyone, including you, fails to notice.
One word, Seven more letters.
Silence.
It's Thursday again, and I'm trying to forget the feel of harsh words and tongues like knives. I'm trying to forget the words you etched into my skin. I'm trying to remember how to sew a broken heart without falling off the string and I'm trying to forget the taste of your name mixed with tears and gin. It's not working.
One word, Nine letters.
Forgotten.