cigarette
after
cigarette,

kiss
after
kiss,

touch
after
touch,

i think the devil knows me
better than i know myself

when you died
i threw your skeleton into my closet
because i couldn't let go of the boy
who told me i didn't need skinny legs
to be beautiful and that it was okay to
drink water when everyone else was
drinking beer

but your skeleton has skinnier legs
than i do and i'm left getting drunk
off old photographs and songs that
sing the words that you used to sing
to me when we sat in parking lots
on wednesday nights doing nothing but
laughing and not saying what we really
wanted to say

i like you a lot
i love you more
i hate you sometimes
please don't leave
i'm really going to miss you

i locked myself in the closet yesterday
with your skeleton
with the memories
i could hear you laugh and
things were okay
(for once)

Today's the first time I've allowed your image to play across my field of vision in a while.
I let myself remember the smile that made me come alive and I'm rotting.
I was always taught not to trust the things that were unknown but the only words I ever believed were those you spoke to me in a language I never knew existed.
I studied you like I did for all my tests in high school. I memorized what I thought was important. I looked at the main points on the outside;
I never connected the dots.
I didn't analyze the deeper meaning of those bolded words in your textbook.
I wonder why I was so shocked when I failed the test.
I've taken plenty of these tests before. Just about all of them are the same.
You were just one of those teachers that knew how to make me feel like I would pass.
That deep, red ink you used to grade my paper matched the fire in your eyes when you handed it back to me, as well as the blood spilled now across my skin, yet again.
That half-smile written across your face
I'm looking at it from in the grave
So it looks more like a frown, to me.

She looks into my eyes with hope
I see her smile, she knows what is coming
I fake a smile back to pretend
Her breathing becomes heavy as I move forward

She grabs my back with her hands
And pulls me on top of her *******
She whispers, "I love you"
I return the favor

To her I am a miracle
To me I am a pretender
A faker who finds her thighs to be a prison
To be trapped in a place where I don't want to be

It'd be easy to release myself
But why would I
When the prison feels so good
When I'd feel the same in between every other pair of thighs

Maybe it is because I'm broken
Maybe it is because I never cared in the first place
Maybe it is because of the one I lost
Maybe I'm just not meant to enjoy it

I finish as I watch her smile in satisfaction
I get off of her and sit on the foot on the bed
She sits up and slowly kisses my neck
I don't in return and gaze off trying to find the hope I once had