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Audrey Maday Feb 2015
I will not let myself care for you,
I will not let myself be hurt again.
My new mantra
Audrey Maday Feb 2015
I knew well enough not to get my hopes up,
But perhaps I was hoping,
That I would be more significant to you.
For if I were,
I would not be ashamed of what we do,
I would not cry because I'm letting it happen again,
And it has nothing to do with your feelings towards me,
Really,
It has everything to do with the lack of them.
Sick of being used. Really sick.
Audrey Maday Feb 2015
What a silly little girl,
Thinking you'd be something more,
Than just late night, drunk ***,
Rolling on the floor.
How naive it was of you,
To pretend you had a chance,
So take your slap to the face,
And wallow in your ignorance.
It wasn't really unexpected, I was just hoping I wasn't simply being used again. But it is fine, really.
Audrey Maday Feb 2015
I told you that you were losing your friends,
I told you my blades were calling me,
I told you we needed you back,
I told you I wanted to die.

And what was your response?
"That's fine."
Audrey Maday Feb 2015
2/2
I still do not understand,
How someone who once loved you,
More than life itself,
Can suddnely be so unendlingly,
Cruel
  Feb 2015 Audrey Maday
Roxxanna Kurtz
Do not fall in love with a poet.
She will feed you galaxies
until you fall sick in her brown eyes.
Then, she'll steal the stars from your breaths,
pin them proudly to her chest,
and claim that she's the night.

And soon you'll miss blue skies,
and summer highlights in her curls.
And she'll ramble in her sleep,
say things she doesn't mean,
and write poems about
how she could never be the right girl.

But, when you think you've had enough,
her words will somehow pull you right back.
Because despite her moonlit dreams,
she's just what you need,
to fill up lonely blue lines
about all the things you lack.
  Jan 2015 Audrey Maday
Morgan
I watched my best friend's eyes well up
with the burning words of his ex girlfriend;
I watched her trickle down his cheek bones
& all over his blue t-shirt;
I tried to wipe her away with my finger tips,
But I was too late.

She had stained him,
From head to toe he was drenched in her
And even if I had caught her
Before she even touched his skin,
I don't think I would've been able to keep him clean
Because my hands were ***** too
With the grotesque words
Of my ex boyfriend

So we'll just sit here,
An other year unchanged
A deck of cards
& a bottle of whiskey
In the space between our knee caps;
Staring into each other's pain,
Strewn recklessly over my bedroom floor

We'll just sit here,
Filthy together for an other year
Of scrubbing the wasted passion from our bones
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