I'm not going back to that place.

I can feel the darkness fighting to take over
but I'm stronger now.

That's what I tell myself these days.
I am so tired of fighting.
So tired of trying.
So so tired.

Loud voices.

Hurried walks.

Too much talking,
not enough listening.

Why shouldn't
I
simply
d
   e
       t
           a
                c
                      h

myself completely?

Your hands in mine
Your lips on my neck
Your breath heavy, your eyes begging
Too much begging

Too far

You're gone now
I can't find my clothes
I can't find my dignity
I lost myself

Too far

the circles under my eyes are growing
i'm running out of makeup
i'm running out of excuses

Holding hands is dangerous because at some point somebody has to let go.

I fell for the way your words were
laced with hidden truths about myself.
But not in the good way--oh how I wish.
No, these truths revealed how guarded
I was and how you saw right through it.
You saw through my walls and
picked out my worst insecurities;
insults disguised as jokes outnumbered
any kind words coming from your lips.
You were toxic and your eyes
undressed me and all of my armor.
I kept coming back for more, begging you
to tell me something I didn't know about myself.
When you finally got tired of my story,
you were gone faster than you came and
I was left here questioning who I am.

I hope you see something every day that
reminds you of me and I hope it kills you.

I hope you can't breathe when you hear my
name and I hope you can't stop thinking
about my laugh and how well you knew
my tone of voice.

I want you to regret that you can't hear
me talking to you this very second.

I want you to remember how I sang along to
every song because I didn't know the lyrics
but wanted to prove you wrong.

I want you to miss how stubborn I was
and I want you to regret ever letting me go.

I hope you think about pushing me away
and I hope it tears you apart.