I can't seem to think
or do anything
without being reminded
of you

so I will spend my time
writing useless words
that you may never see

now I guess I will just make a list
of a few things that I miss

the time you ruined my hair in the shower
the time you wore my shorts around the house
the time you picked me garden flowers
the time you put your hands up my blouse
the time you walked me to the park
the time you shared my cigarette
the time you danced with me in the dark
the time you said you would never forget

how sad that these were perfect moments
in time
and now they are just merely memories
of mine.

finally got the
taste
smell
feel
                                      of you
out of my
mouth
lungs
skin

oh what a bittersweet moment that was
when his lips met mine

but you,
you are so ******* haunting
can't you just leave me alone

his hands pressed against my back
the trickles of our sweat fusing into one
it could have been so magical
but no.

all I could think about
was the first time our hands brushed

the creases in your jeans
the flip of your hair
the sunburn on your nose

my freshly cut bangs
my second-hand store sweater
my nervous heartbeat

please just leave me alone
you have me on my knees
(though no longer for pleasure)
now all I am doing is begging
begging you to let me be



*Honey, are you talking to your ghosts again?
Yes, it would appear that way, now wouldn't it.

she's the kind of girl
who wears rain boots in summer
in hopes of catching the eye
of anything or anyone

he's the kind of boy
who sews patches on his denim
in attempts to impress
the punkrock cardboard cutouts

they're the kind of kids
whose parents keep a watchful fist
on nothing but the bottles of gin
hidden in the top drawer

the growling in my head
isn't much of a threat
compared to the wolves
that lurk under my bed
carnivorous and cold
they emerge from my heart
gnashing their blood-soaked teeth
they begin to tear me apart
there is no use in screaming
no need to cry for help
don't you understand, darling
there are no wolves here
there is only yourself.

I want to sit in the soil
until my veins transform into roots
and reach through the Earth
clinging to nutrients
thriving
slowly my skin becomes petals
opening with the rise of each new day
basking in the glow of the sun
infinite

I want to sit in a jar
that you placed on your bedside table
on a warm summer afternoon
reminding you that I am forever yours
captured
but as I slowly wilt and wither away
and you begin to lose interest in me
you will find a new love to call home
replaced

detoxing from you

bawling on the bathroom floor

here comes the relapse