Your couch has gone from
Mysterious to
Comfortable, quickly to
Inviting, and then
Peaceful,
Becoming necessary and
Right before my eyes it changes to
Lusting, then a chance of
Loving, and back to lusting, until
Another wide turn to the start:
Mysterious.
But it never goes back to
Comfortable again, it is
Frightening, another change
To inevitable,
Controlling to
Addicting, and soon
I am thinking in
Circles, back to lusting,
But the couch has stayed
The same, and
It is only me who is seeing things
Differently

"I don't love him anymore. "
I say trying to convince them,
but thinking that I am only trying to convince myself.

Here I am back to this lonely hole, an empty white page
it is so comforting, so familiar
yet I cringe at the pain and the throbbing memories
that pump through my veins and rebuild themselves

I've wanted for so long to be loved like no other,
No comparison, no second thoughts
No doubt
Only love

I've longed for someone who understands without the whisper or scream
One who seeks comfort in my silence
One who grasps how contagious and infectious
and how ******* destructive my mind can be

One who understands the duplication of these cancerous thoughts
that lurk about the sunshine as it bleeds through the window and screams on the radio
all hoping for new beginnings and some sort of happiness
Changing your never ending path that you continue to walk

This path in which I walk has only been filled with traps and holes
I fall and get caught, and try to scrape off the dirt and deal with the pain
I want to be hopeful and believe in something more,
something so much more than these bitter disappointments

I tell myself not to dwell, this is a constant reminder
not to constantly acknowledge the ghosts that lurk and follow
upon the path at which I walk.
I tell myself that I have to be okay with walking this path alone
That good things come to those who wait,
or maybe that too is a trap

I am filled with so much doubt, running in a circle
like a mouse ignorant of the box in which it is contained
constantly running down this never ending path.

Bodies smashing
lights flashing
skulls crashing against ***** sinks
and kids are snorting another line because what else is there to do but die.
I'm in a tight black dress,
one I starved myself into,
one I grind in
with empty dreams of ballet shoes
and you are not here anymore, because only fools have *** with an empty shell of a girl,
and we both know that you have never been a fool.
I stare at the red glow of the ceiling and watch my red flow down the drain
while I blink
to see your smile
to see a million smiles
I blink to remember that I smiled once, too.