For the past year
we have been apart
yet your long fingers
tugged my hair
reminding me that
you were still there

now to let go of your hands
and breathe in the fresh air

getting over yourself
is a breakup in which
you learn to love yourself again

You,
the topic of my vain poetry
Slip your way
into my ***** soaked bloodstream
With your
self-righteous arrogance

When I am moved on
I will laugh at your
selfish attitude

You do this every time:
she is not any more special than I.
I have your words on loose-leaf paper;
"I love you, Sara" they read.
You always say
someday you'll make it to my
favorite place.
You make
empty promises with no gain.
And I, the liar, can see
straight through your ***** tricks
I can only hope one day
your true romantic fate
will wipe the smile off her face

Never forget
there is always a person
who remembers who you
were when you drove a
Ford Taurus
and your ****** eyes
set sight on me

She knows you only as
a shiny new car;
a house with a table:
to line up
white powder,  
a bottle of Adderal
you are willing to give her;
nightly **** hits
and going inside her.

I am the one who
knows your heart.
Let me know when
you've re-found yourself.

It is not a competition;
but if this were the Olympic games
of wrecked relationships,
I would have the gold medal
while you sit in the stands

how I can
feel my heartbeat
like it's in the
palm of my hand
while THC pours through
my blood stream is
a favorite thing.

But my ear
resting against your chest
listening to your heart rate
as if it were mine
that is what I miss
more when I am high.

fall returns to the hills with gusto;
and as the wind sweeps in
I realize I am alone,
yet I am far from lonely
for the first autumn in years

we made the agreement:
the second you drop to your knee
and take her to the chapel,
I will be running in like the
beautiful heroine
in a classic romance novel

If only finding someone
to be with the rest of your life
was simply about their taste in music
or their choice of television shows