when i think of your hands on my face
my strands of hair at your place
when the ways you hurt me
scarred my mind and burned me
i can't help
but to still love you
a rough draft of your prized paper
a culmination of your favorite qualities
a curiosity turned commodity
i was never something you could save for later
why'd you let this fall through?
i tried everything
realized there was nothing i could do
do you feel anything?
i thought this would be some always forever
but you don't want forever
you thought this was some one night
i feel the pain, you felt the pleasure
i still remember your birthday
and your favorite color
how we got together on a thursday
and when i left you in the summer
now i'm just a ghost in your bed
can you feel me where i used to lay my head
do you miss me
i hope you miss me
One thing they don't tell you when your older is how suppressed childhood memories will effect your life in small and big ways.
"I just haven't found the right guy," you think.
They don't tell you that once the two of you make it official, you'll leave within a week.
They don't tell you how once you kiss him, you can't even look him in the eyes anymore.
They don't tell you the gentlemanly things make you uncomfortable..
You'd rather freeze than let him give you his jacket.
You'd rather walk to your front door alone.
You'd rather open the doors yourself.
They don't tell you how his ***** hands will stop you from loving any boy.
They don't tell you that your father took your innocence at age 3,
but they sure as hell won't let you remember it.
a draft for some slam poetry