He might still think about you each night
That reminds him of the ones you used to share.
He probably is just too scared,
To tell you he still cares.
Even in the first place,
He never once said
"I care about you".
That doesn't mean he never felt it,
And it doesn't mean he ever stopped
Loving the way you laughed,
Joked around with his friends,
And held his hand too tight.
He probably still wants to wrap his arms around you
And take you to the movie theater.
He still thinks about the way you made him feel.
That you made him feel at all.
He's still there,
He's just scared that you're not.

i've grown tired of my words
because they sound so much
like me.

I send to you random messages..  Some of you will get them..  Some of you will ignore them.. They are my thoughts and dreams.. Ill show you what I see..  And they are all real to me.  A sort of memory from the otherside I suppose.  This is just the beginning.. And I smile at the thought of it all!

"She's cured!"
Then how come my mind still screams
"You fat disgusting pig"?
And I still cringe every time I hear your name?
How come I still etch red tally marks on the top of my thighs
And, I still keep the pills
In a bottle under my dresser
And they still call my name begging me to take them
all at once with a big swing of whiskey
Why am I still counting every calorie
And drowning my sorrows with the sting of alcohol?
Is this what its like to be cured?

You pull me down
Never letting me go
No matter how hard I try to get away
You always seem to grab me

I’m throwing up on myself in the bathtub
and chain-smoking these Newport box 100’s because I need this nicotine but I could stop if I wanted

I have more willpower than any one person should be allotted
but that’s just the way it is

and I smoke them three at a time in hopes sometime soon this can **** me

its strange to say that I don't know you
when I was under you just a week ago

and you have that tattoo on your neck of the Bayside emblem
and when I traced It with my tongue you moaned in my ear
and you smelled of sour diesel and Marlboro reds and Budweiser

and now im a little partial to that
because that smell is seared into my sinus

and in the morning I would struggle to find my clothes
wrapped in the sheets and try to sneak out of there
before you could grab my wrist with tattooed arms

and whisper “stay, please”

so this is me sneaking down your steps in my socks
and tiptoeing past your Christmas tree
and opening the iron gate in front of your walkway
and this is me driving away in the rain at 6 am

because I should not be sleeping with a 24 year old man when I am 17

I’m sorry you were the result of seduction
I’m really very good at it and I used you
7 years my senior and supremely illegal
you were hesitant to kiss me

Because you've been to jail enough
and didn't want to see a cell again

but I still unbuttoned your shirt
and traced the tattoos on your chest and all the way down your arm
spilling out onto your hand

and I still love the way it felt to sleep naked in your bed
and have your window half open and hear the rain pouring down
as you packed yet another **** hit at 2 am

and we always started movies we never got more than
30 minutes into
because of the way my fingers tested your willpower

and one night we were watching pulp fiction
and I still cant remember a solitary scene
and im sorry

and one night I came over
and you handed me a Marlboro Red and a cold 40
and asked me what my drug of choice was

and we taked about how the
acid in your spine is resting for the next 7 years

and your pupils were dilated so much so I could not see your pretty irises
and I guess what I’m saying is

I love your 24 year old self
and how you made me pizza
and let me wear your favorite shirt (and that’s it) around your house

and im sorry I always left you in bed
when you tried to pull me closer into you
I should have just stayed

and you would always say
“my pillow smells like you, come back. I miss you”

and I stopped dropping by your house in January
and I stopped talking to you

but sometimes at night I dream of the ink on your skin
and how you got hit by a bus
and how you called yourself the antichrist
and how the last four digits of your cellphone number are 7666

and how we ****** so hard I would pull the sheets off of your bed
and how you always kissed me in the small of my back
and the curve of my shoulders and

imsorryimsorryiloveyou