I hope you know
you make me sick.
You're ****.
I hope you ******* die on the street,
Because that's where you put yourself.

I decided to sleep over you and your girls house.
I didn't think anything of sleeping in the same bed.
You know why?
Because you were right ******* next to her.  
But oh no. I wake to find you touching me.
It took me everything I had not to scream.
You're sick.
I was asleep.
There was no consent.
I hope you realize it's ****.
I could put you away.
1st degree ****..
That'll get you a couple years.

That girl gave you everything.
She loved you with everything she had.
Now, she sits on a doorstep crying her eyes out,
because of you.
She gave you everything.
She gave you ******* everything.
A place to live.
Food to eat.
She loved you with everything she had.
And you betray her.
With her sleeping right next to you.

Wasn't it so convenient?
How you decided you were gonna sleep between us?
I know that's not where you normally slept.
If things went as they normally did, she would have been in between us.
But no, you decided to switch things up.
So as soon as I fell asleep, you could get what you wanted.
You're ******* sick, and I'm glad you're gone.

I can't believe,
I had the nerve to let,
the words leave my lips,
or even my finger tips.
this is too big of a slip,
for me to handle.

Arguments are one thing,
but comparing him to my ex?
No matter how much I think he
deserved it. I swore I wouldn't.
I swore I wouldn't so much as
mutter his name. Too late,

Now the tears flow like waterfalls,
and I sit breathless, hoping that sooner
or later, I'll drown in my self hatred,
and no one else will be forced to
face the cold truth, that I am not only
my own, but everyone else's enemy.

I swore.
I swore I wouldn't so.
I swore I wouldn't so much as,
even mutter his name.
Too late.

Spiders dwindle off strings of cobwebs
that incase my now rarely used notebook.
You see, its not that my pen has run dry,
its that my mind has.

Words don't seem to flow off my tongue as easily,
as the ink would flow from a fountain pen.
No, not anymore,
and to be honest its killing me.

Broken,
like the shards of glass
from the mirror that taught me self-hatred.

It showed me that I'm not all I appear to be,
but more than I was ever willing to show
and it terrifies me that there are parts of me not even I know.

Unknown,
like the song that just came out yesterday,
the words are a mystery so we hum to the melody,
but it still doesn't come easy.

And broken I will remain,
until I can learn to love myself,
and put the mirror back together,
yet again.

Let's create something simple,
yet complex.
Like the iambic pentameter
that made Shakespeare famous,
years later.
Let's create beauty,
in a world where it diminishes with every second,
that passes by.
I wish to be simplistically complex, and beautiful, and am then greeted by the realization,
that it won't happen until it is my belief that it is true,
And if that is the case, I am doomed.
For clocks don't stop and wait for realization.
And mirrors are still believed to crack in my presence.
What a pity.

Breathe in,

Focus on the pitter patter of rain
Drops and the slap of your feet on wet
Pavement.

Breathe out.

Keep an even pace,
Don't let your heart start to race and
Ignore that aching in your feet.

Breathe in,

With every step you're closer to
Your final destination.
It gets easier with every breath taken.

Breathe out.