I hate you.
Almost as much as I love you.
I've been fantasizing about stabbing you in the legs the way I used to fantasize about kissing your face.
I thought that I had one person I could always count on,
I just knew you'd never betray me.
Guess I was wrong.
You broke my heart,
I want to break your spine.
You make the worst ex ever, and now you're mine.
I want to hurt you the way you hurt me.
I want to stuff glass into your arteries.
I want you to stop saying you're sorry.
I want you to invent a time machine,
So this'll never've happened.
So neither of us will've learned this lesson.
"Darling you're the world to me"
"My love, you make me so happy"
What an idiot I was to believe these things.
Now you've got me writing slam poetry
Because I figure it's better than murdering you-
And that little ***** you ****** too.
You were drunk!
You felt alone,
You were confused,
And guess who was right there to comfort you?
That's no excuse.
I sure hope going down on someone new,
Was worth throwing that rare and beautiful thing we had away.
I never knew someone could hurt me this way.
Oh and by the way, I hate you.
I'm a bit peeved obviously. They do say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Everything I do with you is a blur when it's over but when we're together everything feels great.
Your smell is stuck in my nose and your image is burned into my eyes.
I remember wanting to hold your hand but not how many times I cowarded away from the idea.
I remember how many times I thought about kissing your face but I don't remember a time when I have.
These moments of clarity and these moments of fog are everything I thought they would be and maybe even a little more.
I'm not sure what we are but I like it. I like that what we are isn't a label but a feeling.
But most of all, I like you.
You're my drug.
I know you're the worst thing for me but you taste so good.
Your hair feels great between my fingers and the way your lips pull on mine makes me want to paint galaxies with my mind.
Your hands are heavy and rough but feel amazing against my skin.
Your skin is probably the best part.
It's not rough or callused, it's smooth.
I know eventually that you'll **** me, the innocence in my soul, but I'm just so addicted.
You're poison and I can't stop drinking.
They tell you to smile all the time
But then wonder why the hell you're smiling all the time, saying it makes you look suspicious
They tell you to tilt your head and you'll see things a little bit different
But then wonder what the hell is wrong with your neck
They tell you to speak your mind
But then wonder why the hell you're not shutting up
They tell you it's okay to be different
But then wonder why the hell a guy's wearing make up
They tell you to follow your dreams
But then wonder why the hell you're always sleeping
They tell you to stand up for what you believe in
But then wonder why the hell you refuse to sit down
They tell you all these goddammed double standards
But then wonder why the hell you don't listen
I never liked the rain. It was always too cold or too wet for me. But the way the word curled off of your tongue made me want more. Any word that fell from your lips really.
I watched the rain for the first time in a while. I wanted to smell it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to taste it. I stopped myself from doing so though.
I watched and I listened. The first and last sense you lose when your time comes.
Maybe when my time comes you'll say more words and I'll hear them fall out. Maybe there will be rain.
I love others so much more than I love myself; it kind of disheartens me at how much I would give to others than I would ever to myself.
I wouldn't be able to stand it knowing that someone else is in pain or is hurting but when it comes down to me.