Don't you worry about me, my darling.
My mental health can wait.
The worst thing I can do in this state,
Is sit and contemplate how I've royally ******* you over in life.

I'm sorry I was such an awful person.
I've tried to grow and stretch my reasoning,
But as far as I can tell I can't shake who I am.

I'm sorry, I wish it would have worked out.
I wish friendship was an option, but
It seems none of your family want me around so,
I'll just pack up my things and go.

Don't worry I'll leave you alone.
I'll leave my key back under the mat at your door step.
Don't worry about changing the locks, I've deleted your address from my GPS.

But I don't think I'll be able to ever forget where your mother lived,
Or the layout of your home.
I don't think I'll be able to reminisce,
Without tasting your blood on my lips.

I guess it goes to show you can't just keep people in your life that don't want to stay.
You can't keep handing them your heart
Over and over again.
When you're broken and can't repare,
That's how you stay broken, right there.

You'll bleed on the floor and cry their name,
They hold the piece to save you from your pain.
But they threw it down when your back was turned and walked away.

I guess that's what you get,
For trying to sing a desperately, happy tune in the rain.

I'll lay my soul on your tombstone

Sorry I missed the funeral darling but
I couldn't quite handle seeing you so bare in your casket

A sight so painful like the cuts I made on my wrists

Those pearls gracing your neck still pale in comparison to your beauty

Now that you're gone there's not much else to say
My days are a little more grey as every thought if you turns my head

Maybe you'll walk through the door undead
Killing my eyes with that bright laugh and smile
But it's alright I guess

I'll keep your memory just below my surface
Living in your memory using all my favorite vices

I smoke those herbs to numb it all
Bowls after bowls token up like Thomas the engine
Trying to get as high as possible to laugh so hard my tears stop being from sadness and start being from joy

I drink this patrone to forget it all
Feeling the burn of my favorite whiskey hitting my throat and slurring words a bit
Speaking so vague not even I know what I'm saying.

But it doesn't help

You're overloading my system every once in a while
With those eyes as pale blue as the sky on the last day we met

Never opening again, **** that hurts my soul

My dear it may have been four short years but
It all feels like yesterday I got that phone call

Telling me you're fighting for your breath
Telling me you might not make it
Telling me it's a time for prayer
Telling me you've been killed

But here's the deal
I've never been the spiritual type
The first thought that comes to mind when I go in road trips isn't to pray for safety
And I'm not sure why

Maybe because I prayed more in my life in the two hours between those phone calls telling me you've been hit, and when you died

Maybe because when I needed Him the most he didn't come to my rescue like everyone said he would

When I was staring at white walls and florescent bulbs waiting for the next meal
I would reject because I wanted to be hanging from a rope and noone should try to stop me

When I prayed to Him about wanting to take my own life he turned his back on me
It was as if it was meant to be

But then I sat staring at four white walls lying on a bed of nails contemplating how I made it there

Then I think about you
21 was to young to be murdered.
16 was to young to contemplate suicide.

I guess my point has been lost in traslation

But just to bring this to a close it's that your departure did more than **** you
It killed my faith
It killed my self worth
It killed me

But maybe it happened to bring me here.

You know I always have to put this positive twist here somewhere

I've settled in the university of my dreams with friends I couldn't have thought better of myself.

I've started blossoming In my poetry
Spittin these words straight from my notepad where four years ago noone would be able to stare at me this long without my anxiety destroying me inside and out

My dear, if you were still here
I don't know where I'd be today
Maybe I would have found some different passion
But I think I'm happier where I am
Then where I would have been
Had you never been taken from me

It's okay, really it is.

How can I expect you to save the little girl I am?

I can't expect you to drop everything for me.
My life's not that big of a travesty.

Why does she sit with tears in her eyes, when the only thing she can think of to cry about is that the person she wants, and they are not good for her?

Oh but she is a beautiful girl addicted to some really ugly things.
That cigarette smoke is running through her veins, that alcohol trip is inside her brain, her heart can't race and she can't keep up with your pace.

She'll slow a while and contemplate how her life has become such ruin.

And I bet you'll sit there wondering how crazy she is, and how she got there.
But the truth is, she isnt,
Because she's just a perfectly flawed human.

What would you do if I said I missed you?
Would you laugh?
Cry?
Scream at me?
I wouldn't be surprised, honestly.
Nor would I blame you.
Because of all the people in the world, the world's biggest train wreck chose YOUR heart to shatter.
Not once.
Not twice.
Not even three times.
But four.
Over and over again.
If you wonder how someone could do that to someone, it's not because I wanted to.
It's not that I was waiting for you to fall in love with me for me to destroy you in a different way every time.
It's that even if I give my heart a thousand chances, it'll break itself a thousand times.
It's that I was and am confused by my mind enough to hurt those around me and for that I am sorry.
I don't think I could apologize enough for you to believe me for a fifth time,
because darling I'm the girl who cried wolf and I always will be.
I may want something but *******
I'm too scared to follow through with anything and I see that now.
Not saying I didn't see it before but oh god do I see it now.

And with my monologue complete for now I bid you farewell.
And I apologize that I'm such a train wreck.

She's beautiful
And I don't mean the kind of beauty where we judge your waist and breast size
I mean she's beautiful for the way she holds her head when the world is shutting down her brilliance
She's beautiful for the way her eyes sparkle when she has nothing to hide
She's even beautiful when her salty tears fall on pavement
Not no one will see her beauty the way I do.
The way when she wakes up and the first thing she does is let her hair down, and comb through it with her fingertips.
The way she will bring you to your knees with words
That's how she's beautiful
and how beautiful to me is she

I'm starting to miss the way you talked to me.
It wasn't totally obsessive or anything,
But you'd read my poetry and say it's fantastic.
No, that wasn't the word you'd use.
You'd say I was brilliant.

I'm starting to miss how you would sing to me.
It's not that you had the best singing voice but,
You tried hard for me and I liked that.

I'm starting to miss the way you would make fun of my bookshelf,
Because it's almost fallen on me many times from the weight of my collection.

And as I'm writing this poem I'm staring out my bedroom window.
Staring at the sky and hoping someday you'll get lonely and knock softly at the door.

Baby,
I don't know what's come over me
Suddenly all my thoughts point to you and
Maybe it's just that I miss the way you'd tickle my side while I'm reading on the couch
And you'd proclaime to the world "you're such a little nerd, I love you so much."

What happened to that?
What happened to all those late night calls or early morning messages?
What happened to "sleep well my beautiful baby, I'll see you in your dreams"?
How did it evolve into "okay bye"?

I refuse to say I miss you,
Because it's not true.

I'm sorry. I'm a terrible liar.

I don't miss you so much that I miss the memories.

I'm sorry, I'm lying again.

I don't miss the way you'd get angry at me for not talking to you when I'm in the middle of class.

I don't miss the way you'd yell at me just because I wouldn't come home one weekend because I needed to focus.

I don't miss how you treated me.

But what I do miss,
Is the way I could feel your body shiver when I kissed your cheek.
The way I fit so perfectly on your side
Or
The way your eyes sparkled when you said you loved me for the first time

I guess what I'm trying to say is I loved US together,
And I miss it.
But no, my darling,
I don't miss you.

You know I'm lying, don't you?

But my real question after all if this,
And after I say I don't miss you I guess it's a pointless question to ask,

But after all we've been through you know I can't lie to you to save my life
As you can see
Clearly I do miss you

But I was just wondering,
And don't make fun of a girl whos weak in the knees for you.
Do you miss me too?

Darling I'm not the same as I was back then,
I thought comets and stars were things in the sky
Until I looked around one day to find
That they're in as many people
As they are in my mind

No one is really ever the same, you see
Everything changes you and me
Every thought and action we do will lead
Into another alternate reality.

What if we turned left instead of right that one day?
Would we have met with early demise?
Or would we have gotten that job we had hoped to find?

See these are the things that are constantly on my mind
For I can't help but contemplate how the stars align
To bring us closer together or further apart
Or weather or not you see someone's true heart.

I guess it's a difficult concept for some to grasp
I mean even I am having a momentary lapse of reason

I guess that's just part of being human
Thinking about what's bigger about us
Or what could bring our downfall

So many of us just sit and contemplate what it means to be in this body
And the longer we think about it the more uncomfortable we become with ourselves

Because with how our world works if you're not a size zero through nine you're not worth the time of the males searching for mates.

Or if the muscles in your stomach don't look like a six-pack then you're not a very good looking male in the first place.

But if you sit and think about how to make this world crumble
You'll see how everyone thinks they're nothing.
But if you tell a girl or guy they're made of stardust and clear skies
They'll laugh and call you a dreamer.

Maybe I am,
Or maybe that's what poets are
Dreamers who think the world is pretty terrible
So they string lines together to create a scenario to help others see the bigger picture

That everyone is made from stardust.
That everyone is beautiful.