One day, the door will be slammed one too many times and fall off its hinges.

When I needed a google search to tell me if I was still a ******.

It took a game of dare or double dare to teach me I don’t know repeated sounds an awful lot like yes
and ******* can drop mountains on boundaries not yet built –
serrated edges on once innocent skin

I let you carve me.

Nine years later and I’m still trying to find air in the ocean where it all happened.
I took lessons, but I never learned how to swim.

I remember thinking you must’ve liked me, that was the reason
and returning the favor would’ve made it okay. I found you in my freshmen year yearbook.

But I was wearing a bikini shaped like ignorance and a smile lined with naïve

you weren’t reaching for my heart when you went to hold my hand,
forcibly lacing my fingers like ribs around your ****.

I still wonder if dropping the I don’t before the know would’ve made any difference.

you don't even take your shoes off when you come inside anymore.
you knock hesitantly at the door, and hope that you are greeted by anyone other than her.  
wiping your shoes off thoroughly on the mat before entering, making sure to leave no trace that you were even here.
if you do see her, just a nod of the head and a tolerative smile.
but you don'y ever take off your shoes anymore.
i guess that's because you aren't really considered a guest in the home that you wrecked.
i guess that's because it doesn't make things awkward every time you leave again.
i guess it just makes it easier to walk in and out of the door every time, without having to think too much about what you are leaving behind.
i guess you just want to constantly remind me that you are only here temporarily, never to stay again permanently. That you can just pick up and leave whenever you please.
i guess that's just it.
too busy to be bothered.
too absent to take off your shoes anymore.

Excuse me sir, but
"Heartbreak" isn't metaphor
It's physical pain.

Excuse my ***** mouth, but
*******.
******* for leaving me alone
******* for not making time
******* for being too self absorbed to realize you're pushing everyone who cares about you away in the process
******* for thinking I would be okay
**** your for taking away my voice and making everything I say seem invalid
******* for standing there when you could've done something
******* for making me feel helpless and not worth your time

*******.
Sorry for the ***** mouth.

if it were up to me
i would show up at your house
dressed as the love of your life.
i would drag you from your bed
rip your heart from your chest
and leave your lifeless body at the door
for your mother to find.

i would tear every good feeling
straight out of your stomach
and replace them with memories
of all the things that made you love me.

i would burn the remaining pieces
and scatter the ashes
along beaches we planned to get married
and cities we were supposed to live.

i would leave your mind
hollow and unattended
and force you to feel me forgetting you,

sort of like what you did to me.

I. You told me that you saw the universe in my eyes whenever we stared at each other for longer than six seconds. The universe is infinite and I thought you were comparing it to our love.

II. You fell in love with the way I laughed and acted around you because I reminded you of a rose bud that you planted on your garden. Little did you know, a rose has its thorns and I'm guessing you weren't prepared for that.

III. The first time you looked at me with tears streaming down my cheeks, you blamed me for being so ugly looking. I was cursing myself when you walked out the door and didn't look back.

IV. Months after you left and I was buried deep under the ground, he found me. ***** and covered in mud, he washed me from head to toe. I knew I'd fall for him.

V. He and I had our first kiss on New Year's Eve and he gave me hope more than you ever did. I knew I deserved him.

VI. I saw you walking down the street while I was holding his hand and the next thing I knew, you were screaming so loud I could barely understand what you said. Later, I found out that you were cursing me for being freed by him from where you buried me.

VII. I found a letter by the front door the very next day and all that it said was how the writer could still see the mud on my face and on my back, just like the last time they saw me. I knew the writer was you.

VIII. The night he found out about the letter, he hugged me ever so tightly and he swore he wouldn't let anybody harm me. Let the Power above dealt with the problem.

IX. I'm happier than ever now that I know I have someone whom I can hold on to. I don't even see any mud on my face; it is you who's covered with dirt the most.