1.
**** having feelings.
Let me be a robot so
my parts aren’t broken.

2.
I still remember
waking up to his footsteps
and musky bedsheets.

3.
Don’t ******* ask me
about love you have stolen.
You should know **** well.

4.
A friend I lost asked
how I’ve been doing. I said,
who are you again?

5.
The hole he left was
an ugly nightmare at first.
Now it’s just a dream.

6.**
So the lesson is,
my dear, never be attached.
You’ll learn soon enough.

I hate people who are happy
The way their eyes light up and shine

I hate how they hold hands with each other
And no one ever touches mine

I hate how he talks about her
Like she’s the only girl he sees

I hate how his eyes trail across the room
And never once looks at me

I hate how the world is gleaming
But my stance is marred by shadows
I illuminate my face with fluorescent lights
Carving smiles ‘til they’re hollowed

"Congratulations!"

"That’s wonderful!"

"I’m so happy for you!"

I’m so happy your life is bursting with colors
While mine is beaten black and blue
I’m so happy you found your missing other
That I’m struggling with words to mince and chew

But you don’t notice, do you?
You’re too busy gnashing your lips to see me gnashing my teeth
Too busy grinding your hips to see me grinding my feet
Into the ground, digging a hole, hiding under there
Because it’s seeing people happy that I can’t bear
Because it’s seeing people love each other while no one cares

About me.

You see,
You might be blinded by the stars in your eyes
Too far away on that rocket ship to hear my cries
You won’t remember it as the solar system lights up with you
You will forget it as you embrace the sun
The simple truth: that while some people come in twos
Some like me are left with none.

I hope my name always sticks on the back of your tongue
Like bacteria, our memories will accumulate
so when you scrape it off every morning
tears will form in your eyes from the way it burns.
And for every night I sleep in peace
I want you to toss and turn in your bed
with arms grasping for something that will
never warm you in your loneliest nights.
Yes, I've heard your apologies
but chose to close the door
so when you scream you're sorry into the abyss
the regrets will echo back to you
the two of us are no more.
It plays on, like a broken tape
that will drive you insane.

Maybe the person you're with
doesn't have to be your best friend.
Maybe the person you're with
doesn't have to share your values.
Maybe the person you're with
doesn't have to be with you
when you need them to be.

Maybe it's okay for your other half to smoke
even though you hate the smell that sticks to their clothes.
Maybe it's okay for your other half to drink
even though you're uncomfortable when it's with strangers.
Maybe it's okay for your other half
to be a stranger.

Maybe it's okay that the person you love
makes you cry endlessly for days.
Maybe it's okay that the person you love
swallows your heart and spits it to the ground.
Maybe it's okay that the person you love
isn't the right person
for you to love.

Naive boys think my cloudy skies are mysterious.
They like to play in my rain, jump in my puddles.
Smile. Laugh. Have a good time.
Some even dare to take out their tongue and taste me.
Then the storm comes
and they run.
They jump from booming thunders,
shudder from howling winds,
and close the door
to block my loud cries.
That's why I hate it when people say they love the rain.
Because they only love me
when they're away from me.

I'm tired of fighting these wars,
taking your bullets,
and bleeding for months.
But if you ever
took your gun,
unloaded it,
and walked away,
that would be the greatest pain
I'd ever face.
Please don't go.

There's a danger in sleeping with a friend.
You find out he's just a stranger in the end.
Pretty words, they trip me up,
then I fall and get my heart ripped up.
You shut the door, left me cold.
Thought you'd say more, if I wait I'd grow old.
Funny how you insist you're too busy for me,
when my kiss had your eyes dizzy for me.
I should have known.
Your eyes were closed,
the way you moaned,
they weren't just for me alone.
I'm not a solution to your heartbreak,
I wish you weren't another memory for my heartache.
You used to ******* adore me.
I didn't realize that's what ******* a ***** means.
I used to swap spit for love,
lips for love,
***** for love,
but all I got was ***** who think
I'm not good enough.

She asked if she could give me a hug
And I said sure, go ahead
She told me that if I needed anyone to talk to, she would be there
As if I would bother listening to her instead
You see, I don’t talk to anyone but the voices inside my head
And it’s not because I’m psychopathic
It’s just that I’ve heard it all
And these superficial sayings are as good as broken elastic
And don’t call me over-dramatic
Because I’m pretty sure saying I’m tired is an understatement
For wanting to bash my head against the pavement
‘Til my skull rips and bleeds and lets the parasite crawl out
The one that’s been infecting my brain, driving me insane
They say that if the urge to **** yourself rises, resist them
But something’s been ******* the soul out of my system
Drinking the juices of happiness and spitting it back as the cider of sadness
And I don’t think you could understand the madness
That comes with not being heard
When I let my story slip and people just gloss it over
But I don’t remember my lips as shiny and shimmery
I think they’re more chapped and bleeding
From biting my tongue and saying you didn’t understand me
It’s not just a phase that comes with age
It doesn’t mean that the next time I smile indicates I’m okay
My problems aren’t corpses that can easily decay
These skeletons are living, breathing, in need of healing
But you give me band-aids for my broken bones instead of surgery
Like I’m some little kid who was just in a hurry and fell
If that’s the case I must have slipped up to thinking you could lend me a hand
I must have tripped out of my mind to hoping you could help me stand
So sure, go ahead and give me a long hug
If that makes you feel any better
Just don’t give me your sympathy
Because all you are is a fork in my wall plug.

Every fight is a natural disaster:
rage spreads like wildfire;
voices boom like earthquakes;
tears spiral like tsunamis.
He leaves a broken home of my heart
with debris of what used to be love.

You might not believe this,
but I used to be obsessed with love songs.
And I mean, blast-Colbie-Caillat-on-repeat obsessed.
Crazy, right?
Obviously, I don't listen to them anymore.
It's too difficult.
Somewhere between all the crying,
and all the texts sent to my best friend saying "I'm so ******* done with him",
and all the puffy-eyed faces that whisper sorry the next day,
I can't muster myself to listen to those silly tunes anymore.
They've got a cheery tempo,
but they make me too sad.
Ironic, huh.
But love songs are manufactured and autotuned anyway.
They tweak voices to fix falters and errors,
then they come out polished and happy.
Somebody should have told me
that real love is not
that simple.