she smiled,
a secret tucked into her right dimple.
her vision glaringly white once again.
oh she won't tell.
not this time.
blacking out,
and the sweat,
and that sheer adrenaline,
gave her something to live for.
gave her something to feel alive.
enough to feel sick,
but god did sick feel good.
and when everyone
is crying no,
she knows she wants
to say yes.
because rebellion and
anarchy really sets
a fire in her veins.

she doesn't like to sleep anymore.
she'd rather stay up and make wishes
on the scars that she counts
than slip under a sheet.
it's something about vulnerability.
something about letting go.
if she can just keep her eyes pried
for one more second, minute, hour,
she can control it.
how long she sleeps and if she'll
dream [of him] again.
and maybe later,
once she's all alone,
she can sleep through meals
and start to hate the spots
he loved to hold
a little less.
anything, just to
hate him a little less.
she spends every spare second
checking her phone,
hoping to see if he's responded.
hours later.
still checking, and still hoping
for no real reason at all.
"is it possible,"
she asked herself,
"to hate someone and still
hang on every word?"
but maybe she wants to hang on
every word, hang on everything
he meant.
because letting it go was harder
than holding onto it.
staying awake was harder than
just shutting her eyes long
enough to let him go.
so she wastes her time counting
stars and counting scars,
until she can breathe again.

she kisses hearts
and stabs lips,
luring them into traps
and whispering,
"this is all your fault."
she counts wishes
and makes stars,
one for every finger
and two for every toe,
"he'll come home tomorrow."
she drinks air
and breathes water,
gripping edges of sheets
and moaning,
"what's your name again?"
she smiles into his hand
and slips a bit on her expression,
emotions dropping
faster than the temperature.
"he was always full of ****."

it's funny how stark a difference
there is before and after that day.
a literal line can be drawn.
there's evidence, so don't try to deny.
i don't know who changed more,
you or me.
i stopped saying those words
but you stopped reciting them.
i stopped reaching for your hand
but you stopped clenching so hard.
i stopped singing for you
but you stopped listening to me speak.
and maybe we changed together,
and maybe it's for the best.
but when a foundation crumbles,
is it still safe to walk?

you know this isn't ******* fair. you leave me shaking like the earthquakes i told you to leave in your state but slowly drifted to mine. you make me terrified like i was that day, wondering if i should take cover and protect myself or just wait it out.
you said you miss the cute little flirting i always did. what i suppose made you love me. but you told me you got hurt too. i can almost promise you it never hurt you this bad. i wanted to choke you like you made me choke up when you said then, "you were always trying a little too hard to grow up, j." and you tell me now "you always were a little too naive." but you were a ******* coward. you always have been. you cut yourself on your back because the sight of your own spliced skin makes you *****. always taking the easy way out.
you drove away from the ******* the hill that night, that night she told you she was in love with you. and then you told me you loved me and then you went home and ****** your best friend. coward.
i told you i'd change coasts just to be with you and you never took me seriously. you were too busy staring at my smile. and you remember now that i said it but never remembered how serious i was then. you regret not ******* me that afternoon, when we laid awkwardly on your bed and i wanted so badly to touch you that it felt like my whole body, my every ******* neuron, was screaming to feel your hand under my own. but you stood up and walked away. coward.
you say i'm the one that's different, that i was the one who told you to never say you love me again. but i'm the one left texting you old songs in the middle of the night. i'm the one left counting hours back,
one
two
three,
always wondering what time it is there.
especially after you turned your computer towards me to show that you always had a clock in the corner with the time here.
i would have run away with you. i wanted to, no matter how ******* stupid i was. i would have married you. i would have done anything you asked. and we talk now and you told me it would have been hard to work out. you word it like it was my fault i was never yours. but weren't you the one who always whispered to me, "we'd never work out, i can't stand the distance"?
but here we are, three years and 2,450 miles apart and you remember trying to figure out how it'd work. like you still wonder. like you still feel your heart flutter every time you see a little redhead.
because you do.
and every time i see your flower, i double take. and every time i think of surfing you cross my mind. and every time i think of sunset beaches i remember your words. every time. i love you every time.
if you asked me to leave now, to see you. or asked to see me, i'd say no. because my heart is in a different place and we live in different times.
we belong in "what-ifs" and "remember-whens" because we crossed that line and i'm afraid it can't ever go back. i just can't do it. i just can't.

my favorite thing about her
is how much she looks like
i did the night
you begged me to stay.

the best part of you spitting the same words
to other girls that you said to me is that
i know what to expect.
i can read your moves.
i can see right through you.
right through your every move.
and the best part of you
moving on is that maybe one of those girls
will break you to pieces.
worse than i did.

but baby, who are we trying to fool?
if we believed in that, we'd only be kidding ourselves.