It's easy to forget,
To become lost.
To sidestep this wound,
To smile,
To subvert,
To walk away.
To reject the pain of being a man.
To choose my monstrous shadow,
A cocoon.
Pale and absent.
Without consequence.
Without emotion.
Without need.
To stride across burning bridges.
Impervious.
And
never
look
back.

Sometimes after I've
Had a drink or two,
Or a few more,
I convince myself that I can
Find what I want
In the superficial distractions,
Building my ego in faked conversations,
Pretending to be the careless girl
I've never really been able to be,
But pass me one more beer
So I can text every other
Y-chromosome in my phone
And pretend the meaningless
Exchange of dialogue
Even minimally replaces the gross
Urge I repress
To send you the stifled sonnets
That lay dormant at the pit of
My suppression.

Some moments are not to be captured
not in a photo
not in a story
not anywhere
Some moments should only live in a memory

it's ironic
how I look at you
hoping, for you to look back at me

but when you do
I look away
because I don't want you to
see how much I crave you

My stomach turns as I awake, I try to catch my breath. My chest heavy as some part inside me shouts your name.

My mind understands your gone but my soul looks for you. It feels detached to you. It wants you, it needs you, it's confused in search of you.

Some part of me thinks you belong with me, you belong to me, how can I make it understand you're gone and, not coming back when this part of me is missing you.

-InTheWorldOfCyn

All I ever wanted was for you to
love me
I blamed myself
and wondered why the hell I wasn't
enough
I now realize that it was never
my fault
You were just so incapable of loving anyone other than
yourself

I hate you
I hate you for choosing her
I hate you for not staying
I hate you  for not missing me
I hate you for the way you make me feel
I hate that you're the person that lets me down the most
I hate how you don't call
I hate the way you can read my mind
I hate the sound of your voice and how my heart skips a beat when I hear it
I hate the way my hands shake when I call you
I hate the fact that I still think about you every night
I hate the fact that when we speak your words make me what to write poetry
I hate that you live a city away
I hate that I still write about you
I hate that I can't kiss you
I hate that I would choose you, always
I hate that all of this doesn't matter to me.
Because I love you.