The scars on my hands,
remind me of each scratch,
strangers, dates, fear, anxiety, leads to scratch.

The scars on my hands,
remind me of the itching that stopped,
when you held them and said "stop"

Tattoo & regrets,
laughs, throw up, drinks, oh sweet memories.
Of when we we're young and in love.

Weight gains and wrinkles,
anxiety, fear, longing
leads to new scars on each hand.

Arguements and cheating,
tears, anger, violence,
three becomes two, just me and the dog.

Time does not forgive,
happiness is not eternal,
memories replay and replay, what could I have done differently?
Tell me to "stop" please stop this itch, stop these scars from forming.
As I long until we meet again in another life. . .

-𝐿𝑜𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔

"Because you are getting fat"
I don't believe in you, but I adore you.
I used to be happy, I used to be confident.
But then I met you. I know that I choose and live this life.
But I am weak around you, so I implore you,
Be kind, Be genuine, Be nice. .
For I lose my strength, poor me, I am a fool.
A lost stupid fool.

Just a pinch to plump,
Just a pinch to get rid of the lines,
Just a pinch to shrink the neckline,
Just a pinch to lose the weight,

Just some pain to reshape,
Just some pain to change,
Just some pain to become who I am,

I don't know how to feel,
   knowing I'm sad again in this mirror,
          Just some more cuts,
                    Just some more pain,
What can go wrong? As I run from myself,
      Only to see him in the mirror everyday. . . .

I am dying strangely, love does not **** me.
My heart is still beating, death does not yet visit me.
I am dying of these memories, a would of longing.
Do you feel my pain?
This memory, that has rooted itself in my soul.
It ***** away all happiness & sadness, why does it not bloom?
This memory of you I can not erase,
Time does not forgive , I lost myself more and more in your old embrace.

The innumerable ties, that you gave me.
The childish tricks, that you deceived me.
I'd rather be dead, then forgotten.

Our love is made of unspoken silence,
Closed lips that age and ripen,
inside our broken heart.
Our heart which weeps the soul,
agonizing, arduous, still. .  
why, do we keep it in,
only to sustain this anguish,
hundreds of words , to three, to silence.

Remember, the cold desert breeze.
The strange silence  after the cicada's song has gone to sleep.
Bare concrete floors, a broken down door.
An old computer desk with D+J carved into the wood.
Beat up old bed, with a lone gaga poster on the wall.
How, we thought we were "different",
When you'd tell me on the phone, "its going to be okay, I'll run away with you".
I dreamed of a warm home, now I have three.
I dreamed of a car, now I have four.
I dreamed of money, now I have too much to count.
I was cold,
                Hungry,
                          Angry,
But at least I had you.
from diapers until 23. . . we were always together . .
Almost a decade later and I wonder if you are still up there
gazing at me.
    If you are proud of who I became.