He revolted at the sight of me,
gagged at the bitter thought of me.
How could a love so pure,
spoil to such a sickly sour?
I refused to live in a world of his hatred,
so I paved our paths to hell
and let our souls digest an intoxicating aroma.
As we took our final breaths,
I looked into eyes that reflected nothing but
loathing.
I snickered,
and even had the audacity
to flash him
the most wicked
of grins.

His eyes are revolting,
colorless and dull.
Yet there’s something that makes them
unequivocally nauseating.
When I look through these windows,
I see that lust and greed have joined hands
with revenge and apathy
to form a being capable of no earnest good.
The most horrifying trait of his eyes,
is not the color,
nor the size,
nor the dilation,
but
how ******* reflective they are.

One day

you’ll think of me.

A song

or

a sunset

will make you

remember

the way I made you feel,

and your heart will set on fire.

The same way

my body did

every time

we kissed.

When I hear him talk to her,
I crave for a cigarette in between my lips.
When I see them walking together,
I crave to drown in a bottle of whiskey.
When I feel her presence,
I crave for the cool metal of a loaded gun.

But how strange that
I’ve never smoked a cigarette,
or drank whiskey,
or pulled a trigger.

But the urges
are one of an addict.
And at this moment
I’m not really sure if I’m me anymore,
Because I’ve become addicted to things that I’ve
never even done before.

I know I’m not an addict,
there is no way I could be an addict,
But ******* I could use a cigarette right now.

I notice that your lips move
when you lie to me.
I know about the secrets
you kept and denied, despite of me,
I wish you would have stayed
around and fought for me.
I know I hope too much
about things that aren't going to happen for me.
I know we need to go
our separate ways, because you can't be with me.
I want you to see
the potential of what we could be if you belong to me.
I know for a fact that you
haven't treated anyone worse than you treated me.


I've come to the conclusion
that you're a bad person,

but bad people have soul mates too.

At the time,
I thought that pain was permanent.
But I’m glad to tell you,
the slap of your betrayal
has not
even left
a
mark.

I’m miserable.
My lack of talent
are the chains in which I am restrained by.
Oh how I wish I could convey my thoughts,
in prose,
by the use of simple poetry.
But my phrases are jagged,
motifs inarticulate,
ideas jumbled.
How can I understand myself,
when my fingers don’t understand my mind?

You did this! you know, this is me and I am you.
you twisted me like a bow, a pretty little accident,
you pulled me through

For you I wept, for you I made irreversible mistakes,
with little to no receipt,
there was rage and shame ,
little cracks and breaks

like a flower you watered my life
with ***** water, was all you had
so i had not but leaves dripping with fluid,
accepting life trying not to be sad,

I grew into this life form with ideals and dreams
as so i had not just come from a beautiful mess with little means

And here I am writing flaws about you and I my dear
when actually we have conquered, what you placed to subdue  fears.
your plan all along was to mold me to what you lacked
an anti you to which I grew exact.

I have grown with insane dreams,
love of beauty, and life pursuit,
all because you molded me into the brilliant,
Ideal other part of You.

Its that time again
Puttin on that outfit that wont quit
Brush floss chewin on two sicks
Of that favorite gum
Just in case u might get you some

Where is it this time
The park the hill side you love so much
Doesnt matter as long as we touch
Time flys by faster than sound
Once realized its time to end our rounds

As we kiss good by i see the tear from your eye
I say nothing but for words cant express why















We must keep living this lie
One day one day things maybe different

We sit in a comfortable silence.
He is preoccupied with something
in his hands and I sit watching him
and smiling. He looks up at me.

What is it? he asks.
You're just so goofy. I answer.
I do not tell him how amusing and childlike
his laughter is or how adorable his simpleness is to me.

Yeah, that's just me, he answers back.

Another comfortable silence.
He looks at me with a smile in his eyes.
What are you thinking of? he asks.

Why didn't we work?
What did I do wrong?
Would we have lasted?

Did you mean all the things you said
once upon a time or was I just a moment
of weakness and blind want for you?

Want me.
Miss me.
Hug me.
Hold me.
Need me.

Love me.

I've missed this comfortable silence,
these meaningful yet insignificant conversations,
your presence and your essence and your everything.

I don't know what I want anymore
but I know it's not you.
It's just something about you that I can't
seem to let go of easily.

I miss you. Please stay.

But reality steps in
and I am back again.

He looks at me with a smile in his eyes.
What are you thinking of? he asks.

Nothing, I'm just so tired, I answer.

He begins to sing and his voice is heaven.
I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink.
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink.
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink.

I consider singing along, but I just want to listen and smile.
You know that one, right? I nod and he grins.

Another comfortable silence.
I begin to realize that the next time we meet
he will probably have forgotten all about this conversation
and he may not speak to me at all.

So I sit there and decide to make the moment last,
lingering in my laughter and reveling in the moment.

Yet another comfortable silence.
What am I thinking of?
*He doesn't need to know.