I pride myself in that
I don't ask for much.
But I do ask for honesty.

And I don't just mean
The "don't lie to me" kind.

I mean the "be real with me" honesty.
I mean the "tell me how you feel, what you're thinking, what's on your heart" honesty.

Not all the time,
But when it matters.

And you know when it matters.

We don't need romance,
We need reality.

Because reality is the only thing
That can withstand,
Even when the romance disappears.

There is a hole inside of my soul
That cannot be filled.

The nights out just leave me broke,
And you left me broken.

I spend my days longing to fill this hole,
Because I am so tired of feeling empty.

Finding empty love
In empty parking lots.
Only feeling
The lingering soreness of my heart.
Endless summer nights of empty promises.
All I want
Is to to be filled
With your love again.

"It gets better" they tell you
Maybe they are right.

As I sway among a blurry haze
Of friends and guitar riffs
Arms around his neck
It feels like this "better" they always told me about.

But why don't they warn you
About the nights that feel like high school
And heartbreak and
Disappointment

That just because he looks and feels
A lot more like a man
Doesn't mean that he is one

That the same songs that cleared your mind
On a long quiet road at 7:00 am
Years ago
Would be what comforted you
In a lonely, tear soaked bed
Tonight.

Maybe I am still a girl.

Interlocking your fingers with mine in the quiet dark backseat,
Hands gripping my waist as i'm lost in the crowd, pulling me close into your side,
Trails of kisses down my arm, interrupted by solemn, full-hearted confessions,
The movement of your lips when you're excited to be talking and your strong arms around my chest,
Guiding arms and quiet laughs as you lead my rambling, drunken body to your warm bed
Where you ask me about my night and my life and how I feel about you.

Why must I be punished,
For loving you
Too much?

My head rests against your shoulder
And I feel whole again.
The slow, swelling music
Drowned out by the voice in my head reminding me,
"You survived."
As we move I feel pieces of me
The pieces he stole
Filling my heart again.
I feel whole again.
You look me in the eyes
And whisper quiet words of
Pure, unadulterated admiration.
I don't even look over at him
To see if he is watching me utter them back.
And I feel whole again.

I cannot suppress the thought any longer.
That maybe, just maybe,
It is my own fault that
He has changed so.

Long gone is the boy
With the sweet blue eyes
With the sunflower yellow centers

Who would do anything
Anything
To spend a moment staring into mine.

Long gone is the boy
Who could transform from
Fits of anger, questioning
"Why do you let them treat you that way?"

To fits of tears
"The soap here smells like you and I miss you."
In an instant.

His carefully planned words resonating in my mind,
Then and now.

I do not know where this boy has gone.
Perhaps he was lost in the chaos of last July
When the sun had set
And our dismal future was left unsettled.

And he could not use his ever powerful words,
To convince me to stay.

Because all that remains of him
Is smoke and mirrors.
But mostly just smoke.
And a lot of lies.

And now he will do anything
Anything
To avoid my cold grey eyes.

We've both been left fighting for dominance,
Over who has it worse now.
Neither acknowledging the reality
That we have broken each other.

it's funny
well, funny's not the right word,
it's quite sad actually, how you can just walk by
a little store once visited together
or come across a secret note
written for your eyes only
just anything filled with sweet, perfect memories,
and suddenly you are expected
to just forget
you know?
to just **** it up and deal with it because
it's not supposed to be important anymore.
if you broke down and, god forbid, cried a little
like your heart wants to do
people would stare at you and wonder
why you haven't moved on yet.
there are so many expectations but
it is really easy for someone to just come along
and make these really difficult to meet.
you know?

its almost miraculous
how I spent so long
being so blissfully sure
if you & I

but with every day comes night
and every rain a storm
and every hazy night
a tearful me
a resentful you

it's all I can take

You might not know this.
But you made everything
Beautiful.

My memories of you and I
Are tinted a bright, rosy pink.
The color of happiness
And carelessness
And pure,
Helpless,
Innocent
Love.

They're filled with yellow sunshine
Flooding through your car windows,
Which wasn't the only source of our warmth.
Dark, blue rain gently pattering
Against our heads as you held me,
Washing away any and all notions
Of a world that didn't involve you and me together.
And flustered red cheeks pressed against my head, in relief,
When we spoke for the first time
And remembered all that we had lost
And would try so hard to never lose again.

And quite frankly,
Knowing life through a pale pink,
But having to see it through black and white,
Now,
Is so very unsatisfying.

Yellow is still the color of sunshine,
But I'm cold now.
Dark blue has not always been
The exact hue of my eyes.
And my red cheeks come out late at night,
When my liquid courage helps me forget you.

I suppose that,
With this logic,
I never knew beauty before you,
And will not know it any longer.

I don't know how one becomes complicated, but we do.
Our lives intermingle with others who like to make things difficult.
We allow ourselves to be walked over and used and abused and
I don't know why we put up with it anymore.

Our hearts are such a sacred thing, a blessing and a curse all in one.
And when even the strongest of souls can be wounded in the battle of life,
You know you must always strive to be stronger.
Because hearts do not heal themselves on their own.

Words can be so beautiful,
And so harsh

Just a few simple phrases
Uttered from quiet, pursed lips
Can change a mood, a day
A person.

There is no protection
From words.
They're irreversible.
They scar the soul,
Leaving fadeless bruises.

Hurt me.
Get drunk and tell me you love me and you've never wanted
Someone more than you want me.
Then run to her when you're too afraid to face your words.

Tell me.
Get drunk and hurt me because you don't want
Anyone more than her.
Then run to me when you feel like you'll never be good enough for her.

Need me.
Because I get drunk and all I need is you.

I didn't know
It was possible
To fall in love in a single moment.

But as I watched your mouth
Your eyes
Your face light up
With such simple, thoughtless words,

It hit me like a drug.
An all-consuming realization,
That that mouth,
Those eyes,
That face,
You,
Were absolutely everything.

I'll be honest.
Usually, I am not very good
At hiding things.

But this darkness
That has learned how to control me,
To manipulate and exploit me,
I am an expert at hiding.

I've learned the art of slipping out,
Fading away,
Making excuses,
Avoiding the subject.

Nobody needs to see
The girl they think has it all together,
Curled up on the hard wooden floor
Screaming out as anxiety
Chases her down a dark alley
And beats her to the ground,
Leaving her there,
Alone,
With the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I don't want to be a victim,
a sob story,
or a martyr to the cause.
It'd just be nice if everything could stop
Spinning.

And you're dizzy,
The whole room is spinning
Even in the blackness,
Even though you can't see a thing.

There's a kind of numbness in pain,
A soft, sinking feeling
That lulls you through life.

But when it's dark and you're alone,
And theres nothing to save you,
You start to fall.
Grief is a tightrope,
And being alone is a strong gust of wind
To push you off balance.

I crave clear days,
Filled with endless distractions.
I crave nights spent with friends,
Who don't have black hair,
And blue eyes,
And who never leave me.

Nighttime is my worst enemy.

To me, love is such a simple concept.
To me, love is black and white.

Loving somebody
Is as easy as memorizing a song,
Making toast,
Driving home.

It's without thought,
routine,
simple.

I do not understand
Why others must make it more than this?
If you love,
With your whole heart,
Just love.

Smile, kiss, compliment, be.
Say what you feel,
And feel a lot.
Feel everything your heart will hold.

Be as honest as you would with a friend,
As caring as you would towards your mother,
And as loving as you know how to be.

Nobody expects you to love the best,
Just the best that you know how.
So just  *love.

If
Everybody believes that
Nobody knows what they're going through, then by that logic shouldn't
Somebody understand?

fleeting memories

flash in my mind

bringing pain in little winces

like a bee sting

or a quick burn from a ***

a searing pain at first

followed by a persistent throbbing.

I’m infatuated with your memories

I cannot let them go

despite how much

they tear me apart.

With every new hope
There is new agony

I fall hopelessly and endlessly
For the same blue eyes
The same strong hands
The laughs and the smiles and the
Lies and the emptiness just seem to fall
Into place

When will I learn to grasp this rhythm?

You see me from afar.
With him.
I see the finely tuned cogs
Twisting and turning frantically in your mind,
I know you wonder.

What I would give to reach out
And reassure you of the simple fact,
That he is not,
Nor will ever be
You.

He may wear that blue sweater
Often
Because I complimented it long ago.
But you still wear that green shirt,
Quite often.
And that means more.

He may be my "type,"
And you most certainly were not.
But with you,
Never had I been so sure
Of a bad decision.

He may be charming,
Kind,
Gentle,
Perfect.
But you were intellectual,
Passionate,
Wild,
Mine.

He may be able to make me
Happy,
But you were able to make me
Me.

And that is why you should know,
That he's no you.
So he'll never be mine.

I know you do these things
Just to spite me.

Just to prove,
That you know how to do things - bad things -
Without my knowledge
Or approval.

You remember a time before
You didn't care about my opinion,
A persona you think will be easy
To revert to again.

I see the look in your eyes
As you light up
And take "one" more hit
You're too far gone to care anymore
But I'm not.

I may have left an empty place
Between you and the wall,
But you left me one
In the middle of my heart.

Now you're surrounded
By the lights and sounds and love
Of the place where you belong.
You say you miss me.

And I'm left with the streetlight beams between the blinds
And scattered love between my sheets.
But I'll never be home because
You'll never be here.

Because life never seemed easy
Until it got difficult
And you miss the days when
He hurt you
But you didn't realize it
Yet.

They say that humans
Spend one quarter of their lives
Waiting.

Simply waiting.
In lines,
For busses,
On elevators.

For water to boil,
And for the rain to just please,
Please!
Stop already.

For babies to be born,
For "the big day,"
And dreams to become a reality.

But as for me, you see,
All I do
Is wait.

From the early start to my day,
To the last restless thought at night
I am waiting.

Praying
And waiting
For things to please
Please!
Get better.

What they don't tell you,
Is that no matter how much you wait
It does not fix
Anything.

So why do I let myself spend
Four quarters waiting
On an impossibility?

The worst kind of feeling
Is when you see someone that you used to miss,
But you've used up all of the missing you have left for them
Anymore.
And all that remains is just a sad, hopeless kind of
Emptiness.
A pang of what could have been and should have been.
But isn't.
You've given up but you can't fully let go.

I don't miss you any more.
I hate what you did to me
But I hate what you still do to me even more.
And if you tried to love me again I would resist,
For a little while.
But for now when I see you my heart does not flutter with nervousness,
It just drops.
There's a hole in my heart thats always been filled
With some kind of emotion for you.
But it's just empty now.
And more than anything I just
Wish things were different.

Do you
Even know
Who you are
Anymore?

The all-consuming moment when you realize
That your heart is a shattered vase,
Scattered across cold black tiles.
And your soul now carries a deep purple scar,
The kind that cannot be healed,

Generally comes with a sick realization
That you too, have probably broken too many a gentle heart,
And scarred too many a lonely soul,
Yourself.

Human nature is reciprocation.
Mothers teach to do unto others
As you'd have them do unto you.

But how can I do this?
How can I be loved and free,
When all I know of love is brokenness
And all I know of pure soul
Comes in a 6'2", blue-eyed package
That gave his away to this 5'5", blue-eyed mess.

If I were a baby bird
Who had crashed to the ground
You would be the kind soul
That picked me up and
Saved me.

I'm still scarred and bruised
And a little wary to trust
Because being pushed out of the nest
Leaves you feeling a lot of
Hurt.

But you're making it better
You're teaching me to sing
And to soar.

And each day together I grow
More and more in love with
The man that you are
And the woman you are helping me be.

Silence is the loudest sound of them all.
The deafening emptiness, the stir in my mind.
I am alone.  I am alone.  
I am alone.

Silence with you was different
Than silence alone.
Because silence with you
Still had you in it.

Silence alone
Makes me wonder
If silence with you
Is better than silence from you.
Or if my quiet, but raging mind,
Is better than my heart in your quiet,
but raging hands.

I am sorry.

I am sorry that I do not remember
Your favorite book
Anymore.
(Though you never read much, did you.)

I am sorry that I have forgotten
Most of your phone number
And all of your garage code, too.
Though I think it started with a 4.

I am sorry that I can no longer recollect
What you do on a Thursday afternoon
Or the silly name you call your grandmother
When you speak to her on the phone.

Oh, that's it.
Thats what you do on Thursdays.

I am sorry that my mind has prevented me
From remembering if you prefer
Chocolate or Vanilla.
Hey - you always did the baking, anyways.

But, to be quite honest,
I am more sorry for remembering.

I am sorry that I remember
The innocent, hopeful, wide-eyed smile you gave me
On our very first night.

I am sorry that I have not forgotten
When you lifted me onto your washing machine
Looked into my eyes,
And declared that you had never been so
Insanely,
Madly,
Passionately in love before.

I am sorry that I can still recollect
What you do almost every other night of the week.
Even Tuesdays.  Your "busy day."

I am sorry that my mind has just not allowed me
To be able to forget you.

It's dark and the room is spinning around me
And it's him and it's me and we're talking about nothing really
And i'm just trying to concentrate on his eyes, they're so blue
But there's so much THC in my blood
And I think it's doing the thinking for me.

Because I see you and you seem so close
But really you are miles and miles away
And I see her hair and it's red and all I know is
I hate it so much.
I hate her stupid red hair because your hands like to explore it
When I'm looking and I may be really far gone but
Not enough to know what you're trying to do.

So two can play this game so I make out with blue eyes
And it's painful and passionate and I regret it but
I don't regret seeing your face as he leads me up the stairs
As you remember that the last time we were alone together you did
The same thing.

I'm thinking of something
Red.

It's so soft,
And perfectly aged,
And smells like Old Spice
And your skin.

When I put it on
It hangs perfectly
Right above my knees,
And hides me from the world

A world that scares me
To have to face
Without you.

This piece of fleece,
This silly, stupid, sewn-together fabric,
Now lies folded perfectly
In the dark back corner of my closet.

The Matterhorn
Is now mixed with my
Chanel No. 5,
And the hood
Is covered in those
"Annoying stray hairs"
That you secretly loved.

Hidden behind stacks of sweaters,
It mocks me, waiting to find its rightful place,
But I cannot figure out where that is.

Wearing it
Hurts,
Seeing it
Hurts,
Throwing it away
Would **** me,
But finding a way
To return it
After all this time
Would be worst of all.

They say these are the days to be
Young, wild, and free
So why do I feel so trapped?

Like a slap to the face,
Your name lights up on my screen.
My vision becomes blurred,
And the space around me starts
To lose it's clarity.
My face flushes,
And my mind goes blank.
I just stare at it a few minutes.
It looks foreign.
Maybe I'm just imagining this.

The voices in my head
Begin their chorus
"What does he want?"
"Don't read it!"
"He's thinking about you."
"You're not going to like what this says."
And before I can think rationally,
I watch my hand reach down,
And delicately lift up the phone.

My thumb shakily
Drags the grey arrow
Across the small glass screen.
I heard the click of the lock
Being hesitantly pulled open
And I'm halfway there.

I see the grey bubble
On the left side,
Small, but real.
Time: 7:32.
I double check,
and yes
It's definitely from you.
I take a deep breath
And read.

It's just a question.
A simple question.
You even use my name.
That stings.
I could respond a solemn yes or no,
And remind you that no,
We're not friends.
It still hurts.

I could respond a few words,
A sentence even,
In affirmation, filled with pleasantry,
But then you would really know
That it still hurts,
Because you still know
How to see straight through me.

I'm conflicted,
So I take the neutral path.
Short, but not blunt,
And devoid of all notion of emotion.

But its the next "ding"
On my cracked phone screen
That takes me aback.
Drag, click, read.
A new grey bubble appears,
"But when we were dating..."
And with the push of the small, silver button
Everything went black.

I still do not know
What the rest of the message said.
You can lock your phone
And hide a message,
From you tear-stained face.
But you cannot lock away
Floods of pain and memory.

The gentle pull on my waist as sleep left your body.
The steady stare as the alcohol and lust consumed you.
Your strong and firm kiss when you could not convince me that you loved me more.
The unabated honesty as you confessed that I'm your Daisy Buchanan, and she's our Tom.
The look of sorry deep within your tired blue eyes.
The way you say coffee and hockey and my name.
When you talk about our kids and our home and your job and our future and us.
The anger when you think about him or her or it.
The gentle pecks on my forehead and fingers through my hair and interlaced fingers.
And when you let me in and let me look through the window to your heart.

Emotions are purely and simply:
Complicated.

I've found that they are not there
To make sense,
Nor to explain things.
They're just there.
They exist.
They are wonderful and so
So painful.

How can I hate you
But miss you,
And feel empty
And yet so whole,
And love him
But not want to be with him,
And how I can be so awake
But feel so
So tired
?

Pain has taught me

That behind every truth is a lie

And behind every man is a boy

And behind every 3am wide-awake night
Are the words you said to me
And can never take back.

A terribly unfair limbo between

I cannot do this anymore,

and there is no way I could live

without you.

When someone opens themselves up
And reveals the depths of their souls
Not even time, the heartbreak's greatest friend,
Will let you forget these parts of a person
That are shown by their actions, and not their words.

So she may have the same name,
Same colored hair, eyes, and skin tone,
Have my legs and my figure,
And even be my friend.

But only you know how to make this underhanded flattery
And blatant attempt of jealousy-inducing,
A way to hurt me beyond my comprehension.

You’re gone.

But I admit,

At night I still wrap myself in your memory,

Just so I can remember what happiness is,

Even for a little bit.

For once I can breathe again,

Think again,

Feel again.

It’s summer and we’re driving

It’s raining and we’re dancing

It’s your basement and I feel beautiful.

But morning comes again too quickly,

And with that you leave too soon,

And again I am alone.

It’s Tuesday morning and I’m broken.