he pinned me up
against the wall
and kissed me

i asked “why the wall?”

he smirked and said
“because art belongs
on walls”

if a poet falls in
love with you be
prepared to be
written about

in every possible way
from the way your eyes
sparkle under the moon

to how your lips form
that ever-so perfect smile
it’s the little things that
poets write about

the little things about you
makes a poet want to write
and write until their hand breaks

you stole something from me when you lied
i believed you
i trusted you with everything in me
i didn't doubt you at all
you threw it all in my face.
broke me bit by bit, lie by lie
made me feel stupid for being so blind
you embarrassed me
trapped me
convinced me you were changing
only for me to learn your only change was me
you were getting rid of me
throwing me away
tricking me into thinking you were good and new
when really you just got tired of me
i wish you had just told me the truth
that i'm annoying and a burden to you
i wish i didn't feel this
i would do anything to tell you
but then you would lie and i know that
i would
believe you

drive my heart
into the night
don’t forget
to pick it up
in the morning

i hear your voice
in my dreams
as i touch myself

i can feel your hands
all over my body
so rough and hard

i close my eyes as
my lips part letting
out a soft moan

my hands wander to
the waistband of my
******* as they inch
lower and lower

if only these dreams
became a reality