second-hand smoke makes me sick
but I've always got a cigarette in hand
Egyptian tiles line the walls of my brain
thick mud holding down the structure that is diminishing
makeup smears across my face
small sayings line my eyelids
like heavy lashes peeling off
my thoughts fall apart
just as I do
without the attention

I think about you sometimes
and when I do it makes me ******* sick to my stomach
like you're the root of my ******* anxiety
and depression
you literally make me queasy and I can't ******* stand you
so I'll delete all of my photos with you
because looking at your face
feels like an engagement with the ******* devil

it's all that is
and all that isn't
that's keeping me here
but keeping me distant

I  can't remember the day I fell in love with tootsie rolls and I don't remember how long you stayed until you left home and I definitely don't know how old I was when you gave up on me.

I can remember waking up without you home and you hiding in your room "paying bills", but getting ****** and I remember the nights I spent outside alone, because I knew you had given up on me.

I wonder if you knew what you were doing
did you know you were making my insides raw
emotionally
and physically

and did you think that your daughter
would be reading ****** abuse memoirs
obsessively

and cutting her arms until the scars
hurt worse than the wounds themselves
did you know I would do anything to be
noticed

by anyone but you
did you know you would cause me to have
to see you with company

and did you know that you would
cause me to cry
at any
small
thing

and did you think that your abuse
was the best present you could give me?

thank you for causing me to hate
happy birthday
and big crowds where small things can happen

small things
that would ruin me in 5 minutes
that aren't small at all
*and many more

seclusion proves to be the only way
a chance to change the secret of all my hidden pain
and a misguided downfall of full moons
led me astray from my path of unhealthy fumes
and I know that it will be okay
and I know I'll see you in time
but I can't get you off of my mind
and how little I truly knew you
but how very much you meant to me
goodbye, green eyed beauty

when you die I'll get your ashes
I'll form bar graphs and pie charts
of how many times I made you laugh
when I helped you heal
how I made you feel

I could see when you were happiest
and when you were the saddest
I can see how much money you spent at Starbucks
and how many hours you worked
and how many miles were driven from our homes

how many times you left your things with  me
how many cds I listened to on my way to see you
how many haircuts you gave me
and how many poems I've written you