There is no shame
in the show of color from your heart
running to meet mine,
leaping at the chance.

The contrast between
what I have, and what I need
is too plain to see.

The pain of a bed that stays empty,
more like roommates
than lovers entwined.

The ache of a heart that is longing
for yet another
that I can call mine.

I owe you happiness.
For the short time I knew it -
when I knew you.

I owe it to you
to let you go.

you have no patience for me

the times where I lie on the ground
screaming

my chest ripped open
bleeding

I gave you my heart
and you are sick of hearing it

beating.

These crossed out plans.
The foiled intentions.
All the ideas in my mind
that I had
for someone else to save me
to save myself

They are gone.

And they are dead.

Much like me
myself
and my love for you.

I don’t have anything nice to write about myself
because I have no good thoughts about myself.

the words that we grow to respect
from our mothers, our fathers
our older brothers and kin
are the same words we learn to resent
sowing seeds of doubt in fertile heads.

familiar trees
the wood I call home
play on repeat all the things that I know
something rotting
flesh and bone
yet undiscovered
dried up blood on the sidewalk
quicken my pulse
twitch in the lung.

There is a place in my dreams
Where I meet you for *** and cigarettes

I feel your hands on my hips, tight as ever
You never say a word
And just like the waking world,
I'm not sure if you push into me
Out of love, or out of obligation

A year ago the dreams were more pleasant
And through feeling you, I felt the love
It was so much more than enough

Ten extra minutes in the morning to lay
Awake but asleep, in the silence
In the peace of one another.

And I still love kissing the skin of your chest
And I still brush your hair and call you mine
I still miss you more than the rest
Every single second, of every minute
Every hour, every day of my life.

And in last night's dream, we did little more
Than **** and prime for cancer.

My chest in the morning, full of hurt
Aching for the dreams of days past

Where my lungs
And my heart
Were crystal clear.

One day I will be some teenage boy's princess
a widow to myself, but in full bloom
longed to be taken
and more than just poised on the posters in his room

And as much as my eyes
will glimmer just for him
I will be some girl's witch
to be burnt at the stake.

Never in this life will I know how she will martyr me
for my words, or my face
for my selfish suffering.
Never in this life will I know
the confusing duality in being both loathed
and lusted after.

My face on a million blogs
my skin in someone's dreams
or my words inked beneath their skin.

The infamy I hunted after
commercialized, torn apart, over analyzed
and made out to be
just another man's sin.

Boy, remember well
just speaking my name to her
is a sin.

Some days I'm okay with sitting at a desk
staring at a computer for hours on end.

Other days it's a ******* nightmare
because I have nowhere to run
when I suddenly remember how you broke
every promise you ever made.

If I could only be stronger -
shrug off the hurt
and tell myself that if I matter
so little to you,
so you should be worth nothing to me too.

The longing precedes me
with the heaviest of sighs
I am so much heavier than you thought I was
and we are both in the wrong timeline
in this shared life

I adored you, for so long
I had such love
until I was proven wrong

and now, I have this rage
this resentment, burning too bright
my feelings and selfishness
pulling the strings one by one

oh god, I want to go back
I want to go home.