I want to start off by telling you that there have been days I can't remember my own name, but I could never forget yours. You used to look at me with a way that made me remember to drink more water and do whatever it takes to stay here, but now I'm just ashamed of where I am. I never wanted this to be my fault. You and I both know that.
One day, I will find someone who loves the way I stutter when I'm nervous and they'll kiss me whenever I say I hate the way it sounds.
I don't think that anyone ever really understood who I was. I'm a different person for everyone but you were the closest I ever got to being myself. I never felt my mask when I was with you.
I thought I would be okay with you but I find myself still crying into my coffee and turning off my music when certain songs come on. No amount of poetry or metaphors could ever make this pain beautiful, all it's really done is help distract me.
All I wanted to do was hold your hand so tightly that you regretted the night you stopped believing in love.
Let's talk about being gentle. You were never gentle with me. I had a dream that you caressed my face and I woke up crying. Your abuse has scarred me so much that the thought of you raising your hand to me is more realistic than a kiss. I wanted to be gentle with you everyday, even on the days you couldn't find it in you to be gentle with yourself. I wanted to be your home. I wanted to love you in every way there is to love a person and you only want to love me when I'm in your sheets. I think that my chest is a graveyard of all of the versions of myself I killed while trying to be a better person for you.
Do not ever let anyone tell you that home can't be a lonely place because sometimes home is a person who doesn't want you around anymore. Homes burn down every day, but there was something deadly about the way I woke up and decided I didn't love you anymore.
Let's go back. The first night I saw you smile I started praying to a god I stopped believing in years ago. We were in a Taco Bell drive thru. The night that you held my thigh in my car was the first time I hadn't wanted to crash it in forever. I can still hear Come As You Are by Yuna play in the background and the way you said you liked the song. I can't listen to that song anymore.
I'm so sorry for leaving. I'm terrified that there will never be an end to this mess and you're the only thing that never scared me about forever. The worst part of all of this is I'll probably spend the next few years trying to love someone how I loved you. It'll take me a while to heal from the emotional abuse and turmoil you've put me through this past year and a half. It's been a wild ride. I don't regret you. I knew you were a snake when I licked you up and it's my fault for sticking around after countlessly being bitten. You've shown me more about myself than I will ever learn with anyone else.
Your hands are so sharp, all I wanted was to hold them till you became gentle with me again.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Savanna.

I fell in love with a Libra once but all I got was a new therapist.
Why is it that you only tell the truth whenever you're leaving?
How much longer can you lie to yourself? You say, "One day I'll learn." When will you actually change?
What do you tell yourself at night when you're awake and tormenting yourself over things you've watched fall apart? Do you really think you could stop any of it from happening?
Now, be honest. Can you look at your reflection and tell the difference between your mask and you?
Why do you get yourself into situations you can't back out of? Don't you know it's not roulette if all of the chambers are loaded?
Do you remember when you told me that you don't believe in fairy tales? Tell me about how happiness is the road you're not allowed to walk down.

It's hard to believe that you think I'm beautiful even if you don't love me. Sometimes I have to remember that you're not here for me; you're just here. Maybe you don't get it. I could watch paint dry with you but I would still be excited because I get to sit by your side.

He told me once that my eyes were the softest thing about me.
He told me that they were softer than my touch, he told me that he wanted to get lost in them.
They were softer than the walls I built up around my heart.
I think he knows that my eyes give me away.
Despite the insistance of rationality, I still love him.
I don't want to.

His smile lifted the weight off of my shoulders.
His presence made me desperate.
He says, "I miss you too."
He has become my personal poison; I don't want to be sick anymore.

His girlfriend would hate me.
I like to think that he's still mine.
I want to say, "He belonged to me first."
Somehow he still belongs to me.

His arms keep me stable.
Why doesn't anything else make me feel this way?
Why can I never tell if you feel anything for me?
I think our "I miss you's" mean different things.
My eyes give me away.

At first you'll notice his height and broad shoulders, though you'll never notice how sturdy he is till you've laid your head on his chest. It's as if his body became aware during adolescence that one day it will need to bear the weight of the world. If you're lucky, or if he's tipsy, he'll tell you how light you feel compared to it. Pay close attention to his hands when they're not around you. They'll tell the story of holding onto something too tightly for too long. His palms are soft slabs of thick skin. Don't ask him what has scarred his back and callused his skin. His smile will turn inside out, the corners of his lips will pull down. He'll bury his neck and tilt his head towards raised shoulders before letting them fall as if he has no idea what you're talking about.

Always tell him you miss him. It is so much more important than telling him you love him. Even if he's being a huge *******, tell him you miss him. He needs to know that you love him whole heartedly. You'll miss him, you'll miss him all of the time, but not in the way you would expect to miss him. Missing him isn't present, his name isn't flashing across your mind in a racing string of exclamation points, his voice isn't looped on repeat. Missing him is soft, gentle in the way you won't even know you've missed him till you see him again. He will always return the words. He will always tell you he misses you. He doesn't play the "manly man" card when it comes to telling you, though he'll never tell you exactly how much he does. He loves getting random gifts, especially pick ups.  He loves being held, slip your arms around your chest but don't worry if you forget. He'll do it for you. Drape your arms around his neck when he's sitting on the edge of the bed. He will fold into you, and you will feel all of his muscles relax. He loves back rubs and back scratches, this is crucial. When he relaxes, make sure you tighten around him because soon he will be standing tall again.

Remember to love him unconditionally.

I want you to hold my hand.
Hold my hand so tight that my bones break and every crack whispers how much you really need me. The space between my fingers should forget what it's like to be empty because you'll fix each and every crease. Light a fire in my palms and melt away any other touch other than your own.
I desire you.
I am something worth destroying. Can't you see that I would rather be a pile of broken floorboards and shattered glass than an abandoned house, having never been touched by you? Burn your name across my body and tattoo it onto my heart so I understand what it means to love with a passion.
I want to thank you.
You've made minutes feel like decades by holding me until my internal clock shattered and the only perception I had of time was the beating of your heart. You turned words I was too afraid to speak into currency and now I am a millionaire with nothing to show for it except your smile. You filled my eyes with stars and heart with assurance so when pieces of me died I still had something left to believe in. You never gave up on me when everyone else did.