you haven't changed your
profile picture since I left.
I don't know it that's because
you stayed the same,
or if you've changed so much
that you can't recognize yourself anymore.

she says that you work too much.
this coming from a girl whose car
hasn't moved since January.
she's just waiting for you to come back
like she deserves every second of your time.
it's not like it matters,
but I would never ask that of you.

the next state over,
halfway across the country,
or even all the way on the other side,
I still look to see if the car that just passed is yours.
you're my worst bad habit and no matter what I do,
I just can't seem to shake you.

It's an addiction
The feeling of ink to paper flowing from the mind to a needle delivering relief
It's an affliction
A disease that manifests itself as dialogue and description
It's an abomination
A beast that bares its teeth and sinks into the page
It's creation
That bleeds and breathes and loves and hates and learns
It's desolation
That manipulates and destroys enveloping the world in its darkness
It's imagination
That addicts, creates, and destroys nothing *but the mind

I don't know how to trust
Your handsome good intentions.
To be honest,
     they scare my bones.

You must be patient.
If you come too close
     Hiss.    Scratch.     Run.

I hide in the bush,
while you put out a can of food.
And I will wait
     until you are safely inside
          before I eat it.

You must play this game with me for weeks.
Slowly trick me into trusting you.
Move too fast and I will never come back.
But if you go slowly, one day
     I may eat out of your hand.

I do not claim to be worth the effort.

I never told you
                              that I loved you
     or about the magnitude of that emotion.

because for the longest time
     you weren't mine
          and then I
               was someone else's.

And now
     my heart doesn't break
     every single time I see you.
     It shatters.

So I carry a hundred shards
     of this shattered heart
          but they cut into my hands

And so desperately I want to show you these wounds
but you wouldn't understand.

Because you know me
in a way I don't think anyone else even could.
But these wounds aren't for the unknown pieces of myself
     they are for the misery
     painted on your eyes.

I'm not stupid, I know I couldn't make you happy.

It's been a ******* year and I still cry
                                                                 because I lost you
                                                                 because I never had you
                                                                 because these shattered shards
                                                                 belong to you

One day the fire between us went out
     and you never told me why.
And now I can't speak to you
                  I can't look at you
     I run away grasping my shards and cry
     for the love I can't tell you about.

What would you even do with my love?
It would be of no use to you.

Something broken
          can be taped or glued or stitched
               back together
                    but once something shatters
                                                                      it is shattered forever.

Slightly below my hunger for food
Lives my hunger for you