You were never a cure
Only a distraction
When I felt the need
To fracture my January skin
To see if I was still living
You lit my smokes
And talked about my laugh
How it stopped time and moved glaciers
Even God himself couldn't budge
You weren't what I needed
Late nights, Vicodin off the streets
White sheets and pillow talk
You were only the in between
Never the start or the end
You were not my cure
I don't have one,
Terminal battles
Cut into pieces by the fun
You gave me

One day I'll talk about the pain
In retrospect
And I'll talk about the way I healed
It won't be a stretch
One day I'll talk about the pain
Like an old friend in high school
Familiar faces focused on the has-been
But only for a little bit
One day I'll talk about the pain in retrospect

Why'd you have to
Show up on my comedown
And ask if you could hang around
Like old times, 4 years ago, flew somehow
Who was I then? Who are you now?
Why'd you have to
Show up on my uprising
And act so very surprised
To learn I was giving goodbyes
Did you think I'd wait forever?
Losing you was an endeavor I could not
Heal from, instead I had to run
And why did you have to ask me if
I was happy? Or if I was having fun?
Please don't pull me back
I've no time for your conundrums
Why'd you have to change for the good
Second guess the way I'm dodging you in this state I fell in and out of love in
All In a year
Why'd you have to come back here?
I felt so ******* strong

*** without being in love
Another ghostly counterpart
to fill myself up
Says my body is lovely, my sounds are art
Can't see way I knocked over my cup
On purpose to distract him,
I needed it to end
I stopped having fun
6 months ago in a room in Boston
I thought I was filling the void
With attention,
A habit I learned in early
Adolescence
I was making it bigger
Confusing my soul
The men I sleep with are empty and foul
*** without love
Is an act of sin,
Not according to God
But to the person within
Myself, I am sorry
I give up on it
*** without love
Feels meaningless

The longest day,
The deepest breath
You always knew me the best.
My second spring,
Without you here
I wonder who I'll be this year.
The greenest grass,
The bluest skies
I hide the ugliness of my insides.
The warmest sun,
The afterglow
Of a girl whom I'd like to know.
The longest day,
The deepest breath
I won't wait for you again.
The time is now,
No room to wait
Gaia dealt a brand new day.

I was 16
I asked you for understanding
You said you'd never pity me
So I stopped reaching up to
Where you placed yourself
Above me on a throne framed
In ivory. Tusks like fences,
You said you didn't feel sorry for me.
You never cared who or what had to die
To make yourself happy.
I got blood from my wrists
On your stark white gown.
You kicked me out for being messy.

I packed my clothes
And cigarettes
I'm moving to the South.
I always romanticized the North East,
And North West but the middle seemed draining and sure, I'm scared. I'm bound by my youth here and I have this exaggerated passion to travel I decorate for the sake of feeling adventurous but I'm actually comfortable with my feet in concrete boots, climbing back to you. You asked if I'm happy and said that it's sad that I'm leaving, we have so many memories. I felt the same way a year ago with you so I said I didn't know if I was. I don't know if waking up every day past noon to down a pill just to leave the room is happy but I know I'll live three miles from the Atlantic ocean, from pink sand in three weeks and you know I always romanticized the way nature could heal a shattered soul, so I'll go.

I hate that you asked me if I'm happy right before I go, I hate that I'm over you but that still make my insides coagulate and tear apart my stomach lining, I hate that I'm lying about why I'm leaving.

I said I'm starting over but I just have some things I haven't let go of, and I can't. So I'm running from them instead. I'll live on the beach. You won't pop up in the coffee shops I pretend to like dark roast in. I won't see your face in public when you aren't really there. It's unfair that I don't know how to go anywhere but towards another person but I'm hoping those morning beach walks might teach me how to go towards something scary instead of something safe. Maybe happiness isn't safety, maybe when you said you missed me that pain in my stomach was irony because a year ago I collapsed in class on a white tile floor when you said you'd never love me the same and now I'm leaving behind white walls and a white door I never painted because I never picked a color that made me happy.