A fantasy
Is what you are
A made up existence in my early sub-conscious
Sometimes you're blonde
Other times
Hair the color of midnight
But most of the time
My fantasies end by one of us
Leaving the other
What does that say about me?

I can't even write about you anymore

It's not a boy- so let me stop you there.
It isn't drugs either.

Everyone has an addiction.
Whether you like to admit it, it's there.

For some, it's a substance.
A-
grindable, smokeable, snortable
-substance.

For others it's an action.
A-
keep me busy, cleaning, eating, touching
-action.

For me, it's a cycle.
A-
god just look at him looking at me I want to be pursued what if he would touch me please come over me and touch me before I explode and my friend has to pick up the hot pieces I want to express this but I can't because I'm calm collective and sophisticated and mature and no one but Jackson Chesley Fenna Sarah Fish Alicia and Plum can know how desperately lonely I am I want to be with you oh my god you don't love me what's wrong with you what's wrong with me I can't believe that I waisted all of this energy on you I am so much better than that because I am calm, collective, and sophisticated
-cycle


Repeat.

If I responded with "I'm doing good."
You'd say "You're doing well."

If I said "Oh! The king from Thor was-"
You'd say "Odin. His name is Odin."

If I asked "What did you think of the movie?
You'd say "It was terrible. The dialogue was atrocious, the plot was  sloppy, the actors were bellow par and I hated the fact that they both survived"

If I told you "I love you."
You'd say "I know"

You're just so Vulcan...
But I've always liked Vulcans.

Blue light overlapping
a soft face.

She told me,
you are worthless.
When are you going to grow up
and stop using and stop stealing
and learn how to treat a girl right?

All with silence,
she said this.
All with silence,
she wouldn't look at me.
All with silence,
she drank,
and she wouldn't look at me.

Even though I knocked them over
I walked in to find empty beer cans
stacked to form a tower on the table.

The air smelt of cigarettes and secret connotations.

A small house filled with many beautiful people
and many different kinds of alcohol
on a cold Saturday night.

**** and bad intentions littered the floor.

I can't help but shake the feeling
that something went wrong and that
she isn't smiling the way she used to.

You pushed me down and I couldn't help the words of gratitude spilling from my lips as you picked me back up.

Do you dare to break a window?
Oh angry girl.
Your accidental outburst puts us all to shame.

What did they do to you to make you like this?
Is it really my business?
You made it so when you broke that **** window.

You kicked it. With brute force and intent.
What was the window supposed to do?
(Surely not break)
Well it did-

I pray that your regrets last until the next decision;
when another insect crosses your path.
Perhaps then you would choose a wiser action?

Oh angry girl, I will never know what angry thoughts you hide.
"It was an accident, not out of malice," Gail defended.
"How can you kick out a bus window without malice?"
The woman on the other end replied.

A beautiful face in a crowd,
with the somewhat in my direction looks.

The most beautiful face in a crowd,
with definite glances in my direction,
and just as many returned.

I don't love you, not one bit.
But I do love it.

It.
The feeling of you creeping up my side
I'll dismiss you no matter how hard you try
To convince me that you've got nothing to hide.
That feeling of worthiness that only you can provide.
I need it.

Touch me. I dare you.
I love it.

I didn't buy this perfume for you.
But smelling me is the least you could do.
Smell me. All over. You know you want to.
It will make them so jealous; because they all want you.
They want it too.

I know I'm selfish, and I'm so sorry.
I think I'm addicted to you.