What if I told you that while you’re gripping my hand you’re also breaking my heart?

Would you call me a liar again since you can clearly see it clenched between my teeth?

The name-calling might be justified this time and yeah,

You could say I’m trying to break my heart myself but you are most certainly the one standing there holding the scalpel and yeah,

You can hide the blood-lust behind your clenched jaws and bulging temple and yeah,

I can pretend I don’t see my crimson nightmare dripping off your fingers,

But who the hell is going to stop me from biting down and ending all of this foolish fake nonsense before something tragic really happens?

Wherever she placed her well-worn feet she brought life, but all she could do was sob.

The real tragedy of her blessing was not the barren ground she touched with her toes, but that anything her magic produced died as soon as her soles left the soil.

Spiraling to disaster, she ended her life before she could end any more.

Do you want me as much as I want you?

And I don’t mean in the physical, “I want to ******* way”

I mean in the “I want to hold your hand and fall asleep with you and while you slumber tell you not how beautiful you are to me but how beautiful you are to the world and how you deserve someone much better, fitter, prettier, smarter, better, than me and hope you can hear well in your dreamland and then tell you how I want you to make me feel like the only star in the universe, the one that shines brightest but that will never burn out, to make me feel like the one who deserves everything you tell her in the pitch of the night, but I also want you to tell me these things in the daylight when I can show you those three scars on my arm, when you can see every single blemish that I refuse to cover up on my acne-riddled face, when the cellulite between my thighs and covering my once-thin tummy jiggles while I laugh at the silly jokes you tell me to cover up the fact that we both are terrified at being hurt again and what I want the most is for you to read this terrible poem and tell me I’m not crazy for wanting these things because you want them too" sort of way.

Three-thousand memories ago I once wrote the line, “I’m tragically in love with the idea of you” but I’ve moved past that. I’m at the point where I’m just praying you aren’t in love with an idea of me, because believe me, it’s twisted, it’s warped, it’s a facade. I hope that as soon as you realize I am Jess The Mess you don’t run away screaming, because I sure as hell would.

She was always the reason for my pain.

Sitting here alone
Chilled to the bone
I think of only sad things.

But the music in the street
Makes me bounce to the beat
Happiness tugging at my strings.

I begin to smile,
The first time in a while.
and that bird in my heart again sings.

I may be alone,
But at least I am home
And that bird can now stretch her wings.

My heart screams to me,
Stop this, you are only going to hurt
I numb it out with my mind, twisting, delicate,
Stop this, you are only going to hurt
I look at her and all I feel is joy,
Stop this, you are only going to hurt
Is the pain what makes this real?
Stop this, you are only going to hurt
Her love rebounds, resonates within me,
Stop this, you are only going to
I can’t, I won’t, I refuse to
Stop this, you are only going
For the sweaty, delicious, enervating moments are what I long for
Stop this you are only
Her smile is the sunflower she speaks so fondly of
Stop this, you are
Beautiful, sad, whole
Stop this you
Are the light of my days, the dark of my nights.
Stop this,
I am going to hurt,
Stop
I am going to hurt you.
Stop
Let’s hurt together.