i don't get attached
i don't cry over boys
i don't take them serious
i treat them like toys

i like to be liked
but not to be needed
want you to want me
or my ego will be deflated

what a spoiled brat
probably just messed up
i don't care about things
my feelings are corrupt

i want to feel something special
with someone brand new
but i don't know if it's possible
maybe it could be you

Spring
we were new
learning each other
& staying so true

Summer
so much heat
we were so passionate
and never discreet

Fall
and the lies started
the fire went out
no more kisses when we parted

Winter
we no longer speak
you pretend i don't exist
and i'm feeling so weak

in my head you're on a pedestal
not even real celestial
like a statue carved by artist
you make me feel less heartless

but i've hardly gotten to know you
i don't want it to be true
because what happens next?
it's like another vortex

like to keep it casual
trying to be adaptable
but your good looks are intimidating
what could i be implicating?

the first time i gave a guy head
it was in a strange house
in an unfamiliar bed.

i barely knew his first name
i acted like i had experience
treated it like a game

the first time i had ***
it was a similar experience
but hey- what'd you expect?

i was drunk on a bathroom floor
he ****** his tiny thing inside me
and after called me a *****

My first time was my last
he destroyed my confidence
i regret the past

I should title all these after you
but then it'd feel more true
you're still all i write about
i think of you and want to shout
i ate up your lies
you ignored my cries
and now it's you i despise
so i've cut all our ties
but then i see your picture
with her, her and her AND her
what's a girl to do
when all she ever knew
walked out the door
left her alone on the floor
i always think i'm over it
but it still does hurt a bit
                              
~S

i showed to much of myself to you
now i hide away
i regret letting you inside
every single day

2 yrs is not enough time
to get over losing me
it's not you that i miss
but who I used to be

i miss being open
and i miss all my friends
i pushed them all away
did a social cleanse

always wear a ***** face
to keep them all away
don't want them to stop &
ask is everything *okay?

i crave the taste
of stale cigarettes and beer
cuz it was the taste of your mouth
what happened here?

i long for
the misspelled drunk texts
that once annoyed me
phone buzzes i flinch, reflex.

i ache for
the feeling of your chest
under my head as i fall asleep
only way i could rest

i hunger for
your love
-all to myself
we never should of.

i still smoke out of your bowl
i like to pretend i can taste you on it
even though i've cleaned it twice
all the time i get lit
to make my mind feel nice
cuz thoughts of you echo
throughout my whole body
i feel you in my blood stream
it makes me wanna scream
but your magic bowl fixes all

wow
guess i'm relying on you still
gotta get my fill
you've made me so ill
brain cells killed
i don't want to feel.

His hands,
His hands,
He didn't have the right hands.

They weren't shaped right,
They weren't the right size,
They didn't feel right pressed against my body.
His hands didn't cup my ******* with love.
They didn't look like those of a strong man.

I've dreamed of these hands since I was young,
And I don't know why.
I haven't been able to find the right ones.

The right touch,
The right grasp,
The right hands.

I can see the veins,
Pressing against the surface of his skin.
The small lines sprawled across his palms.
His fingers a certain length,
His knuckles a certain size.
His hands,
The right ones.

Man of my dreams,
Only in my dreams,
His hands in my heart,
His hands the right hands.