I started drinking coffee, not because I enjoyed the taste, or even the burst of energy it gave me late at night, but simply because you loved it. Always seen with that coffee stained smile.

I hated it though.
I had hated its bitter taste that no amount of sugar or cream could sweeten.
I had hated the way it scorched my mouth and throat as I slowly gulped down the warm liquid.
But I drank it. Every morning and night, tricking my mind into thinking I liked it.
You soon moved on from my try-to-hard self, and left me all alone, with a coffee stained frown.

What would occur if gravity failed me and I was lifted far into the heavens,
Past the clouds and into the dark abyss of space?
I would have nothing with me but my mind to reflect the world we all know.
I wouldn’t think for long however,
I would be to busy dancing around with the planets, to remember the harsh words that were said that night.

I would be found hopping around on Saturn’s rings, giving her all the love I could.

I would be found  talking to the Sun,
telling her how we all missed her when she went away for the nights, without her we lay restless and cold waiting for her return.

I would be found comforting Pluto,
See he as well was easily forgotten.

I would meet all the stars that make up the night sky,
and say how we are all inspired by the beauty they give off,
how we all glance up at them at our greatest moment of weakness and remember we aren’t alone, whispering to them all our troubles knowing that they will always be there to listen.

And while everyone goes to sleep, I will finally join them and dream of never leaving this world that I have entered.
I will finally forget you and the lies you told, laying restless no longer.

So if you need to contact me,
I can be found  floating across galaxies, talking to the asteroids, sharing stories of how I thought it would be the end if you left, laughing about the fact that everything was actually better.

I will be among the stars, searching no more for love, because I am loved by the planets and all the stars. I no longer dread on not having the love of another, because there is far more love out there then in you.  
The Earth still spins and the Sun still shines, the only difference being I don’t love you anymore.

my grip is slipping,
and falling scares me.
my world is fading away.
h      
          e
                     l
                             p
       m
                 e

h
          e
                    l
                          ­     p
          m
                     e

writing was an escape but even now words slip off the paper like tear drops.

you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.

d o you want me to leave you so soon?
r eality can be a deadly thing, do you want to leave this dreamworld?
e scaping me can be hard
a nd loving me, even harder.
m aybe we can live in harmony, me & you
i magine the possibilities.
n othing can replace what we have,
g ot that?

i hope you don't take me to
s eriously, it's all just a game, laugh along.

m y oh my,
y ou really are a freak, lighten up *****, it's just a game.

o nly a crybaby would cry over something so small.
n arcissist *****, you think you're actually doing something great?
l ies are all they tell you, don't feed into their stupid postivity.
y ou're only as good as dust.

e ven as you write your pointless poetry hiding that you're
s cared to be alone,
c rying because you have no friends
a nd living up up in your head all day like a ******* idiot.
p lease, give me a break from your madness
e veryone can see you're just as pathetic as me.

times running out,
hear the old ticking clock.

tick tock. time a' running out.

you can't run little girl, for it is much greater. the old man in the clock is quick to take his victims,
'your time is done. the clock has stopped. calm down girl, it will all be over soon'

black takes over your vision, all you hear is the ticking of the old mans clock.

tick tock.

one by one they all stop, growing eerily silent.

your hands tighten around my neck and my breathing stops.
i think for a moment that this is love.

you have always punched, kicked, slapped me. i just don't care anymore.

this is love to you, but
this isn't love to me anymore.

"i was happy"
                                                so was i.

I'm only here because I have to be, you have something personal of mine. Nothing more, nothing less. Let's call it business.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't need it. I don't need you anymore. I never needed you. I don't need you to be here, I just need it back.

But you see, you have my heart still and I need it back to leave. Can I please just leave? I need it back. I need to leave. I need you out of my life, but I can't have that if you own my heart,
so, please
just give it back and I will be on my way. Please.

I told you I didn't want to be alive anymore. Maybe not death, but the way I was living wasn’t for me anymore. You held me close while I was fighting back the tears and demons. That night, you got me to sneak out, you didn't want to be alone either.
That was only a few weeks ago, do you remember it? Can I have that lovely, midnight boy back? Did I ever even have him?
That boy is who I think about when I speak to God about love. Although whenever you talk about love, you really mean lust or your blessed ex-girlfriend who is stuck in a long term relationship (****** buddy, really wish I could help you out here but I’m selfish. Why can’t you like me like that?)
You asked me to hang out a few days ago, I agreed, of course. I miss you more than I can admit. I told you, no ***. You texted me back, “what’s the point in hanging out if you are going to be boring.'' But what’s the point in falling for a guy who’s an ******* half the time.
Honestly, my version of the “good” you is pretty *******. I mean I wonder if my friends truly believe that you could have said half the **** you seemed to have genuinely meant. I always, always, present you like the best guy you could ever be. Here I am, once again, not even attempting to badmouth you. You really know how to work my mind. I give you props for that. Midnight boy, the one I admire the most, where did you run off to this time? I miss you. Come back.
Somedays I fear you only lived in my mind. My dear, I’m going crazy. I can’t sort what is real and what isn’t. Did you really say all those sweet things to me, darling? Or did I picture you saying that?  I wish I could get out of my head. Usually, I rant to you, but ranting to you about yourself would just simply be obscured. So maybe you can read my poetry someday and realize every verse on every poem is soaked in you.
The real problem is you never truly wanted my love. Maybe it made you feel better, maybe you felt powerful with it. Knowing I would do anything to be with you. Really it should make you feel like a ****** person, leading me to believe you really wanted me. You made up things to ensure nothing came real between us. Parents, sports, lust for any other godforsaken female on this planet. Hell, once you told me you don’t know why I even stay around. That if you were me, you would have left a long time ago. That made me think. Would you really? You told me it was a sign we always ended back in the same position. Underneath the stars on your trampoline. The sun would be coming up and I would curse time for still moving in a time like this. A time where everything was so peaceful and lovely. We would distance ourselves for a month or so. But, we would return back there, spilling out our souls. Or at least I did. You told me I knew everything about you, yet you feel like such a stranger to me.
God, please send this boy some help. I tried, I really did. But as the saying goes, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it. I want all my prayers about him to be granted if that isn’t much of a hassle. I’m wishing you could hear this all. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over this boy, yet I only want the best for him.
I’ve cried and cried. But he doesn’t shed a tear, for anyone.

i live on the idea that everyone i love
will be just like you.

you.
such an absurd thing you are.
are you still out there thinking about me?
i wonder what it would be like
if you loved me as i loved you.
could we work past the hurt
the betrayal  
the pain we caused?

do you think of me today?
i need to know.
i pass in the halls and can't help but want you to stop.
to wait for me.
to pick me up and take me far away from
where we could be each other.

i need to know if you ever loved me.
actually, love is a strong word.
deeply admire.
oh, how i admired you.
if anything,
you were the first person i “loved”.
if i stay on this trail of hate,
you will be the only one i “love”.
  
i gave you every part of me.
even though you couldn’t do the same.

do you remember when i stayed up
listening to you rant about your day?
we would just talk.
i think we annoyed my sister whose bed was next time mine.
but i never cared.
it was just me and you.
i swear i fell even harder when i heard you laugh
or even when you cried.

you never cried in front of me but i knew you did.
you were always hurting.
i could never heal your hurt,
or even distract you.
was it a problem with me?
was i just not the right one for you?

i think it was a good thing we didn't work.
but right now, i think it still stings.
very slightly, but the hurt is there.
maybe someday i will find something to distract me completely from this sting.

maybe we could meet up again.
and we could love again.
the feelings might not be as strong,
but maybe this time,
we can love a new way.
would you be okay with that?
could we finally be together in some altered universe?

the least you could do is to stop
looking
so ******* cute.

I fell asleep with him drunk and stupidly in love. That's how most of my stories go. I was drunk, and I looked at him like he was God. I would fantasize and convince myself that I can finally be with someone that actually wants me. They leave and I accept the fact that no one would love someone like me.
My first lover told me I needed to stop letting people **** me so easily. So I waited and waited and still was unsure but I slept with them and they left. So I guess you were wrong, people just leave me.
I've been second-guessing people's feelings since they first state them. It annoys them but I'm never too sure until they get fed up and leave me hurting. I beg them to stay even if they will hurt me worse in the end, but I am hurting now so it won't be any different. It just doesn't seem to matter. I just need to feel. But once again I pick up a bottle and ***** the first person to talk to me because baby, I haven't been the same since you left. So call me crazy or a ***** but I want you to know I will never love someone more than I loved you. So please tell me again how I need to stop sleeping with people so easily because that's what I did with you and that got you to stay around for a while. A little bit longer than most. Please just don't leave me.
Everyone seems to leave me so I might just take this ***** and jump off the roof because baby I haven't been living since you left me. Baby, I haven't been breathing since you left.
I need to leave too. I think its better. I absolutely despise myself and everyone who has been around me. I hate this person I've become after you but baby, I was so young when you met me I don't know who I am to this day. Baby, I was so young.
Why did you have to introduce me to hurt like that so young?

i wish that i never found poetry in the way your lust dripped off of me.
the way you cared. ( you did right? ) the gently rough ways you had.
in a way, i wish that i never payed attention to all these details. i remember too much. i really don't think about you anymore, but when i do, i remember it all. i can't help it, it's like when i'm with you i analyze everything. the curve of your shoulder, the way you look at me, that cute laugh you have. oh, that smile. that smile was melting.
i just wanted to feel like i was at home, but you can't pretend when your home is a *****.
i wish you were around to tell me to stop smoking, to tell me about these terrible guys i find myself talking to. i wish i could talk to you. i could just talk. sometimes i wish i wouldn't have.
but you see here, you fuel the poetry hidden under my fingertips, the way i see cigarettes or uno or the color pink. the way i look at the moon is never the same, maybe that's why i don't anymore. my birthday marks one more year of the worst decision of my life, a constant reminder i have never been enough. whenever i see a car like yours i hope that it's you in it, i might act like i don't care around anyone else, but i can't deny that my heart picks up pace and i find myself looking. how pathetic really, the fact that you fuel my poetry and i can't even be a single thought in your head.
tell me honestly, was this just a weird, sick dream i had? or did you really not care.