sometimes when I drink wiskey
i swear I can hear your court in the creases of my bed sheets
& i sleep on the floor.
i still catch myself running over things you've touched the most, looking for the echoes of your finger tips
i practice things i'll never say to you.
i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everythings already been said" how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being chiche"
you know I don't miss you like the sun and the moon, i do not miss you like the tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, but I mis you like a chernobyl swigset missed children.

and rumor has it drowning is like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach & I never paid much attention to an abandoned building until i became one

im sorry I couldn't keep my legs closed - im sorry that his hand up my shirt and his lips pressed against my neck drive me to lose my last bit on innocence. I'm sorry that getting high felt too ******* good, but getting low felt even better. i put that bottle to my mouth and drowned in every last single drop.
im sorry that nicotine taste so good, i didn't think I'd get addicted. i just thought he'd like me better if i started smoking. just like him. I'm sorry that my heart is black and my future matches. I'd burn these thoughts to the ground if I knew that i wouldn't love the pain. im sorry that I've stained the sheets, with my blood. but im lacking regret. I'm sorry I took a knife to the door but for a moment it was him; screaming, begging, pleading, HURTING. it was him, I ******* loved evert second of it. I'm sorry if you know me now because traces of me as the girl that I ever let a man touch me because the second I did I realized how ******* awful this world is. i don't make sense and im gonna puke.
im sorry for that too.

one night to be confused
one night to speed up truth, we had a promise made. four hands and then away, both under influence. we had divine scent to know what to say, mind is a razor blade.
to call for hands from above to lean, would that be good enough for me?
one night of magic rush, he start; a simple touch. one night to push down and scream & then relief. ten days of perfect tunes, the colors of red and blue
we had a promise made
we were in love.

I keep spilling things, im too messed up to keep my hands steady and too ****** up to keep my mouth closed and in knocking our furniture and its so ******* messed up, no im so ******* messed up.
you don't even cry anymore and im sure as tired of hearing us yell and im so sorry, i wish I could handle it and I wish I could just go back and I cant I ****, and I know you hate me and I just need to know what to do, and all this madness is just bleeding me dry and  im SO tired of the fighting, but it's  more with myself now and not with you even though all we do is argue all the time and I cant even give you what you need, I can't give you what you say and I can't apologize enough for this gaping whole in my head that keeps ******* me in, but I'll keep the blame on me. ok. I'll keep my hands around my eyes wondering just like I always do, at least it's not your fault this time right.
but I keep wondering when can I get out of this. when can I get up and leave and why can't I figure this out, and maybe the answer is never. you don't even care anymore but it's ok...
i mean is it? is it ok if I just stay.
is it ok if i just let this happen to me, can I just sleep it away, will you be here when I wake up? please tell me you'll be here still, you keep telling me to go to bed and by now you know I'm so disrupted. I'm so adictive, so ******* addicted to my own pain, I just need to be hanging on by a thread to feel some sort of sick satisfaction and I know you're done with that. God you're so done with me. I'm sorry. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep this up. I keep drinking and drinking, and the pain never quenches the thirst, im sorry I'm such a wreck
I'll give up on me too.

just because you'll move mountains for someone doesn't mean they'll catch you when it crumbles under your feet

i can't wait too kiss you
and to hug you and jump and annoy you and to comfort you
and to make to smile when you're trying to be mad
and surprise you in the shower
and wake up then fall asleep next to you
and i can't wait to learn to play piano and play for you
and i can't wait to kiss your stomach  and chest
i can't wait to steal all your covers
i can't wait to walk buy you and you slap my ***
i can't wait to walk around in your shirts
i can't wait to walk around naked
and i can't wait to turn you on in public
i can't wait for you to undress me when im sick
i can't wait to get a dog with you
and i can't wait to cuddle with you
and i can't wait to kiss you and kiss you and kiss you
and i can't wait to be drunk with you
i can't wait to talk about absolutely nothing with you
i can't wait to love you
I can't wait to love you loudly
i can't wait to love you softly
i can't wait to love you gently
i just can't wait to love you.

;do you ever wonder
about the difference between looking at something
and the hallucination created
when looking past it?
if you look at  your hand
it's all you can see
but if you look past your hand
there are now two of them
sometimes it's hard for me
to remember which is real
it gets me thinking
about how my father
used to wake me up
in the morning by rubbing
his stubble across my face
if i could be his favorite color
on our bathroom floor
he would forget why he left
the paramedics were all sobing
as they pumped memories
out of my stomach
i've been choking on the splinters
for 14 years
it's been 14 years
since the last dinner plate
exploded on our dining room wall
14 years since my mother
started accidentally setting your place at the dinner table
14 years since italian night
at the restaurant on the corner
where the juke box
and like so many other things
it stopped working when you left
i guess it's no coincidence
since the juke box went quiet
that the cds in my car
only skip on "i miss you"
i've been hemorrhaging memories
for so long
and now that i'm looking back
i can no longer tell
the mirage from the truth
sometimes i swear
you showed up to my graduation
and last time
i was at your apartment
i can't remember
if the imprints of my hands
are in clay hanging on your wall
or if they were left in the mud
the day god had the audacity
to let it rain
or maybe it's like the time
i saw someone crying on a bridge
now that i think about it
i can't remember if it was me