I did more for you than I have anyone else and you just threw me away as if I was a plate with no design

if your voice was a song
i would ride your pitch until i could no more
i would sing along until my voice became weak
i would imagine your lips
and your perfect pronounciations
with want
and denied obsession

she doesn't understand why I write

how it helps, what it means

it's all just words to her.

she doesn't understand how I feel,

how much she hurts me,
or how much I like the pain

she's so simple.

she doesn't understand what I see in her

I see everything in her.

she's every positive test result, or every complicated exam

she's every sunrise and every sundown,
every constellation,
and even the moon

she's everything

but she doesn't see it.

she doesn't know that I write poems about her,

or that when I'm not looking at her I hope she's looking at me.

she's over me.
I never thought she was into me.
she was never into me.

they never are.

she doesn't understand that I can't just 'move on'.

oh, how I wish it was that easy.

I** would like to thank you.

thank you for making me feel disgusting in my body,
and telling me i'm not worth it.

thank you for judging me,
and getting upset with me over nothing.

thank you for telling me not to talk to anyone,
while you're miss popular.

thank you for helping me hate myself,
for putting so much negatives in place of my only positives.


thank you
for making me laugh
for taking away the pain
for numbing my brain
for making me forget it all
for letting me fall in love with you
for leading me on
for tempting my lips
for treating me special
for making me cry
for over sexualizing my body
for calling me ruthless slurs
for not having the guts to approach me
for telling me you didn't believe in me
for turning me down
for telling me to find someone new

oh thank you,
for being you.
for showing me who you really are.

madison i hope this world gives you hell,

only because i want you to run back to me.

i'll comfort you through the storms,
but i guess you don't need it.
you don't want it.
you never did.

you make it hard to think,

you make it hard to mumble,
to speak.

you make me weak,
breathless.

i don't know what to say,
what to do.

i feel so hopeless,
i feel so numb,
but i like it.

i don't think you understand how much you mean to me,
how much any bit of abandonment tears me apart,
or how every word you say makes my mind race to catch up to my heart beat.

you don't know
how much blood i would shed
to fit your standards.

money is scarce,
but isn't it always?

space is free,
because you're not here to occupy it.

time is wasted,
    because I mumble, and freeze up.

but I think
  that's okay
    because I don't want us to be      
                          normal.

I don't want to treat you like your next,
or your last.

I want to be someone you remember,

someone you think back to and smile.

I want to spoil you,
  with my words
    and gestures.

with how much
  I think about you,

how much time I have  
lost
in you.

I want you to know that you're my everything,

and I want that to make you feel amazing.

I want to make you feel amazing.

I was raised being told that words hurt,
and I always believed it.
I know what it feels like to be called slurs, to be used as someone's mental punching bag,

and it does hurt.

but I was never taught that words help.
I was never taught that I could write, and feel, and pour everything out with syllables and rhymes,
I was never taught that I could be myself behind computer screens and nonsense,
I guess that's something I've had to teach myself.

words help,

and it is known that things can make you just as happy as they can sad.

I hate it
I hate the way that everyone looks at me
they way they laugh and mock
the way their voices sound;
it's so dreadful;
so filled with negative and hate.
sometimes I contemplate ending it.
just so I don't have to hear them;
just so I don't have to think.
but I know it's not worth it.
"it all gets better"
.. right?
that's what they all say as they hand you prescriptions,
as they send you off for seven hours to hear nonsense
but, "it all gets better"
so what does it matter?

I'm past this point,
all is well.
There are no more infatuations,
no more ulterior motives,
but it hurts.
The pain is shattering,
the pain is horrid.
you broke me.
You brought out my vulnerabilities,
shattered all my pride; broke all promises.
I want you to fix me-
to help me fix myself.
What has been stated tells no lies;
but I need you.
I don't need your kisses;
I don't need your warmth;
but I need your hand.
I need you to support me like you used to,
before he roads grew thin;
before feelings were spilled.
I know your dark side;
I know your flaws;
and I know that this hurt you too.

I noticed how you wandered; how you swayed.
I never wanted you back;
I never wanted your love.
I wanted your attention,
your smile.
I want your attention,
your smile.

Why can't I make you laugh?
Why can't I read you like I used to?
It kills me.

Take my vulnerabilities,
take my soul;

just let me cause that smile,
that laughter that I've always loved to hear.

With no obligations;
no commitments;

let's hold hands again.

one day when all the thoughts of you have disappeared, when the pain in my heart has been reduced, I'll shoot you a smile. you'll see what I am, and what I've become due to all these trials and errors, due to all the times you broke me and tossed me away. you will finally understand that I am human too, and you treated me like I was nothing. I thank you for showing me that my existence is of no importance, but frankly, I had already known. I showed no intention, no infatuation, but you pulled it out of me. now I know how vulnerable I am. now I know my weaknesses, my flaws. all because you showed me I was already broken.