It's ironic to think about how I had someone once.
The kind of person who would
"insert literally any cheesy metaphor here" and he would have.
But I was too scared to want that for myself.
Too terrified of my emotions to let them into me.
I wish I could turn back time.
Before I was all ruins and dust of those who have walked all over me.
Sometimes I think it a dream,
that this life I'm living isn't really me
That the girl with the dark brown hair
never dyed it because she wanted change from a boy who broke her heart that she ended up running back to anyways.
Now her hair, heart and pride are all damaged.
She isn't treated the way she needs to be. And any chance of that happening isn't likely. She chose her fate but it wasn't wisely.
She didn't think she deserved to be happy.
So now she's not.
And she can't seem to let go of the boy with the canvas across his chest because she finds beauty when he breathes.
But he doesn't give her a second look most days.
Only acknowledges what's in front of him when it's there, not when it may not be anymore.
He often thinks too much into himself.
They are both too insecure to love each other properly
and too insecure to let each other go.
We are the best of friends but the worst of lovers.
And there could've been the love of my life somewhere before or inbetween but I never seem to do things according to plan.
These paths across my thighs are like a roadmap for my lonely and you have never dared to look in their direction because you don't know this pain I feel under my clothes.
How every inch of me is covered but it still feels so open and exposed.
I've never hated anyone more than myself.
Not even the ******* who stole my childhood
because I hate myself for letting him.
I shouldn't put so much blame on a girl who has never had guidance. Built myself from the ground up and it seems I am not finished yet. There is still work to be done.

I asked him to stay-
but his hands were wrapped around my throat.
I insisted anyway.
No words I could think to formulate
other than to convince him to not leave me.
Stay.
The words crumble like weak knees amongst a dying friend.
You realize these things when you're close to the edge.
About to jump.

He didn't need my convincing-
His eyes struck me solid
Half past twelve and his five o clock shadow
was the only shade of midnight I care to remember.
You took the time to hold my hands and now they're just spinning.

Clockwise mindset.
A reminder I am set in my ways.
The alarm clock sings-
Tells me there are still things I have to remind myself to remember.
But what good is memory when it is a shell casing of a bullet
that was supposed to be lodged inside of your brain but it missed.
Left you with a hole
and now you can't remember where you came from.

I am moving on from this.
From the hands of yours stuck around my throat
keeping me from keeping him close.
You are nothing to me now-
Just a shadow not even a ghost
Not even a figure I can make out inside of my mind anymore.
You are nothing-

I realize my time is up when the clock strikes.
Father Time says to me
That not everything is set in stone
And these hands will continuing turning
even on days the watch is broken.
So watch out for yourself.

These minutes should remind me
to forget your face in the background.
Ignore the ticking when it comes
and tries to remind me why I take these pills.
Just take them.
Do not bury your hurt inside a foreign memory
that doesn't know how to speak the language of recovery.
Because these hands,
They will continuing turning
even when my watch is broken
Even on days when I am too.

You broke me -
Shattered me to pieces.
Afterwards I was laying on the ground and you still somehow
made me feel sorry for you.
The feet you used to walk on my heart were now bleeding
and I was in even more pieces.

I tried to put myself back together
for you.
Heal the wounds
that are now just scars.
But I keep looking at them
Obsessing over how they got there.

I'm still in ******* pieces
And don't know how to put myself back together
You don't give a ****.
Because
You're better now.
I'm not.
But that doesn't matter
Because you can still see yourself
in the pieces I am now.
I still show you your reflection.

I stuck around for you.
Hoping you would help fix me
Hoping you would help me fix myself.
Instead you just stood there and watched me struggle.
Admiring your handy work.

These hallowed halls remind me of myself-
the way I would attempt
to see the sunlight on days
there was nothing but darkness.

I'm always writing about
how I can't breathe.
It would be nice to know
what oxygen feels like,
what living before you feels like.
But I do not live in that world-
not anymore.

You reside in the skin under my nails
and the corners of my eyelids.
Buried beneath these things
I will never notice-
but utilizing a place so important.
Nothing kept me going
not the sun or the stars
or even the idea that love exists.
Nothing has.
It only hinders my progress-
people like to run away
return their investment
for something they bought prior
or for something that seems so much better.
No one wants damaged goods.
No one sees the potential they have
to become your favorite thing.

You ruined my life,
and continue to.
Every time you are far behind me
you catch a flight and find me again.
You are the reason I cannot breathe correctly-
or love enough, or trust in someone.
You are the reason I cling to what's terrible for me.
I wish all of this was an over exaggeration for art.
I wish this wasn't my truth.
But it is.
I have to deal with it-
I wish you did too...

This time of year always breaks me again.
Skipping over these days would help me breathe
but theres no livelihood inside of me
only misandry and misery.

Just know that you have ruined me-
know you have succeeded.
Lastly, you won't find me where I'm going
so don't even try to look.

I remember the winter
how it chilled my bones-
and it reminded me of you.
I remember the night
how it shook my insides-
and that too reminded me of you.

I look at my reflection in the glass-
still seeing you behind me.
Hovered over my progress
hindering the steps I take forward.
You cower in the corner of my courage-
finding me when it has run dry.
Peeking out of my mind
when least expected
seemingly at the worst time.

I never knew you like I thought-
tried to face what you did to me
but denial is your muse
what keeps you coming back
is me.

You have been the reason
for me almost leaving-
the reason for these scars upon
my wrists, hips and thighs.

Two months ago
I wrote the last poem about you
my body could think to write.
My mind kept calling you back to me.
The winter chill captivated me
took me hostage there in the front seat-
waiting for my car to warm.

You're the reason for the makeup
that drips own my face and burns my eyes.
But only sometimes-
you are not to blame for everything
except my fear of the dark corners
and my inability to keep myself
from trying to discover what hides in them.

I hate the winter
the cold takes me hostage-
it chokes my willpower
and makes me remember you there.

You don't know that repression gave up-
ran away around middle school
when I couldn't be strong any longer.
You came back in the winter-
reminded me of when you left me in the dark.

I still smell you sometimes
and remember the things you showed me.
How they were something I didn't want to learn.
Seven is everyone's lucky number-
but somehow it has me doomed to fail.

I saw you standing there-
my mind hazy from intoxication
I thought I could handle you there.
Metal should only be in your head
if something went wrong-
and so that's why I threw the bat at yours.

The closest I've been to showing you what you did-

The winter still chills my bones-
the night still shakes my insides.
But I am still alive
Still Okay.
Still Alive.

The sun fights hard to keep its place
and the winter doesn't stay forever.
So you won't either.

You were my serendipity-
but turned into my catastrophe.
Found you when I wasn't looking
but now I see where that left me.
You were modest in nature,
I was always running with the wolves
but even with my instincts-
you still somehow ruined me.
Never saw it coming-
like how I just stopped rhyming.
Never saw it coming-
no such thing as perfect timing.
You were my sweet serendipity
nothing will ever hurt me like you.
Inconsistent stature-
you were my natural disaster.

She wore her heart on her sleeve like the latest fashion.
But he didn't believe in designer clothing.
Never checked the price tag because he never seemed to see her worth.
At least not for what it was.
She was always looking for the boy who was half-off his rocker and she clung to the kind she could save.
But sometimes you forget to look closely before you choose and just end up with damage in places you never expected.

She wore her heart on her sleeve-
It seems he made a mockery of the style she wore so proudly.
Too profound for him to handle.
Heart always guarded closely to his chest.
The price on his head was worth more than he would like to admit.
He never took the security tag off, didn't trust anyone enough to.
She tried to steal him away but the alarms sounded and everything went to **** again.

She wore her heart on her sleeve and she was once so proud.
Now she wears jeans, and sweaters that cover her skin because she is not proud of what she wears or who she is.
He made her feel like she needed to cover up in order to find the right kind of love.
Her mindset changed along with her style and you didn't see her heart much anymore.
He stole it away because she didn't think it needed the security.

Girl meets boy-
Together they are an item.
Apart they are just cloth
Two pieces not relevant unless put together into a bigger picture.
But times have changed-
and it seems they don't look good together anymore.

I guess they went out of style.
I guess they outgrew one another.
She decided it's time to stop selling herself short.
She decided it's time to stop looking for buyers.
An antique doesn't have to beg for buyers.
Buyers beg for it.
She never saw herself as an item alone-
But she always knew she was an artifact.
Yet to be uncovered-
She could only be discovered by someone who will work heard enough to find her.
Go find her.