I remember when you walked up to me in a quiet, busy room and proclaimed to me and my friend that we looked like celebrities without makeup on.
I scrubbed my face seven times a day after that, hoping that the ugly would trickle down the sink even though it laughed at me in the mirror.
I remember when I noticed you for the first time and your tongue spoke a different language to the girl, next to me. I remember when I noticed you for the first time, because everyone else did too.
I remember when you breathed butterflies into my soul, because my body and my mind divorced and my actions were an orphaned burden with no guidance.
I remember when you left.
I remember when you started to look at drugs the way you used to look at me. The way you held your cigarette with a tender shaking hand, similar to how you used to hold
me.
I also remember how you said you'd never hurt me.
I guess you,
forgot.

Everytime I think of you.
Everytime I think of you my skin tries to run away, and the goosebumps infect the people next to me. My stomach contents heave-** and tango to the beat of my limping heart. The tears swirl and tickle my eyelashes, but they do not fall, like I, for you.
Everytime I think of you.
Everytime I think of you I forget how to use the 26 letters of the alphabet to spell your name. The tastes of "want" and "need" ****** my tongue because you are those flavours.

Everytime I think of you.
I try to stop.
Because you turned the butterflies in my stomach into moths.

Why did you do that?

Knocking on a door that never opens
knocking on a door that never opens,
I need to enter so that I can empty out the heaviness of my emptiness into a room that has no colour. And the ignorant will walk by and they will hear the wailings that have created another dent in the moon and they will dance to the beat.
But
They will keep walking.
The wailings, they'll stop.
One day someone will knock and
knock and
knock
The door will open and I will greet them with my feet that dangle 6 feet above them.
And I hope
I hope that's loud enough.

"Girls shouldn't smoke"
I'm sorry sir, say that again?
Tell that to the 15 year old hispanic girl who sold her virtue under the guidance of the traffic lights to pay off her mother's cancer bills.
Tell that to the wife of a man who
beat
beat
beats her, because some nights she refuses to kneel at his supposed genital altar and confess her sins.
Tell that to the girl who has spent 6 months carving her home address into her forearms,  hoping that her Mum would smell the rust and come and rescue her.
Tell that to the girl who was stolenshackleddruggedsold under the consent of her father who used her body as a paycheck to settle his blackjack debt.
To the lonely girl. The ugly girl. The fat girl. The anorexic girl.  The bulimic girl.  The girl.
"Girls shouldn't smoke."
Tell that to the women who find their prayers in the daily grace that is, nicotine.
Just like men do.

You took me as I was,
you rescued me from my own condemnation,
a remembrance of John the Baptist saving
the life of Jesus.

You glued back the pieces
of my broken lego soul with your songs
of, Its Okay ,and we danced while the
new foundation dried.
And you let me stand on your feet,
and you led me around the room
and we laughed a melody
that Mozart should've composed.
Even Tchaikovsky fingers twitched
in his cumbersome state.

But now, my love
I've forgotten the notes to our melody
and my cracks are expanding.
I'm sorry your glue went to waste.

I'm so sorry
But thank you for teaching me how to
dance.

The Sun,
She didn't even shine for me anymore.

2.The Moons,
even they turned on me and I was left to find my way in the darkest of nights.

3.You left me in a corner, the walls were made of concrete and even they would crack at the touch of my empty hands searching for comfort.

4.I ran away from every mouth that
formed words that
that
that sounded like yours.

5.My guitar, is out of tune

6.My stomach is an abyss, for everything tastes like you.

7.I fell in love with your mistress too and her other friends, I see why you preferred her arms
for comfort

8. They said I was bipolar
depressed
crazy. After I split my wrists looking for a sign from you.

9. I love you

10. I still love you.