the red that you spilt all over me
left to wash, rinse, and ultimately repeat.
you played Brand New on the ride home
as the streets collected row by row.

your touch feels so good,
and your words taste divine.
but the touch that was so good
will leave me in due time.

you’re a daydream that doesn’t sit so sweet.
you’re the dark edges bumped in midnight streets.
we’re in your car but I still feel so alone,
counting the streets that go past, row by row.

those three words you have repeated time after time again

those three words, the same, meant differently each time.



I love you.



I love you, don’t be mad.

I love you, please stay.

I love you, let’s ****.

I love you, it’s not personal.

I love you, but no.



don’t tell me that you love me,

how dare you take that weapon into my back

as I tried to walk away.

anchors cast around my ankles

that were striding towards liberation.

don’t tell me that you love me

as we walked down the streets of downtown

after a month of silence in which I thought I had lost you.

but the way that your eyes smiled

when I echoed those words back,

it was a trap I couldn’t help but to fall into.

don’t tell me that you love me

when silence was on your end

after I drove 78 miles to see you.

later I came to learn that you were

getting high with your buddy Anthony.

don’t tell me that you love me

when you’ll never love anything more

than that chemical you inject into your body.

don’t tell me that you love me

and then go **** the girl

that had your heart before me.

you brought her into the relationship

from the very start,

an unintended *******.

don’t tell me that you love me

and not hold me in the night,

turning your back, yet again

keeping me on the outside.

don’t tell me that you love me

just to drag me back in.

don’t tell me that you love me

when you made sure to destroy

every ounce of self respect I had.



don’t tell me that you love me.

told there was a savior
but you found one of your own
floats in the needle
and dances with your bones.
creation is for a god
but you took it in your hands,
perception is your world
and unconscious is your land.

I still wear your jacket
but your smell has fade
I’ve been waiting to move on
but it seems these days
just won’t pass.
and I turn off your song
cause I’m not ready yet
to deal with the pain
you caused when you left.
it won’t go.
it won’t leave me alone.
dancing around in my room,
haunted by memories of you.

you said it was over but it never ended for me.
you said it was over. oh, how I wish it could be.

he told me that something’s changed,
that I didn’t look at him the same.
the light in my eyes has faded away,
darkness taking its place.
he begged for her to come back,
the young girl that smiled and laughed,
running through fields
without a care.

existing in pictures and memories
I’ve been told that girl was me
but she is no longer here.

the sink is rung with blood
and  with crimson on your hands
you smile through your painted mask.

your veneer of kindliness
is cracked, my dear, and our dinner
guests might be able to see through,
to see the real you.

you can mask my bruises in makeup
but lately these wounds have been
getting deep. these cuts are not so shallow
any more and others can see your art.

you painted me like the nighttime sky
in purples and blues, speckled and shaded
into your creation.

my knees are cracked open
and all that you can do
is pour salt from your
pocket to keep the pain anew.

but you have been running out of tricks
and there is nothing within your grasp
to keep the rope around my neck,
to keep me confined in your grasp,
I’m afraid we have reached an end.

I hold down the
sharp edges once again
to allow you a second chance.
they carve their way down,
you don’t care at all
my pain has always been irrelevant.
after all, as you said,
it’s just my medicine.

we could still be
what we wanted to be
after all we’ve been through
I would still let you in.

you are my medicine.