I like to sit naked and write ****** poetry

The alcohol had drained out of my system but my body felt like a train had collided with it, but trust me, this wasn't a hangover. This was my eyes being to heavy to open because I knew when I woke, you wouldn't be in my line of vision. This was my lips being on fire and they craved your lips to put out the flame again. This was the knots in my hair that only your fingers running through my scalp could untangle. This was last nights make up streaming down my face but I couldn't fix it because without you to wipe away my tears, what was the point? This was the fact that I spent hours of my day on the bathroom floor because my heart was shattered, my lungs were dry and my ribs were cracked and my stomach craved to be as empty as you made the rest of me feel. This was a lot of things but this  wasn't a hangover. It took the disguise of one though, much like the devil in you disguised it's self as an angel, so I'll let everyone believe it was just a bad hangover, nothing a few Advil can't fix. It's so much easier than explaining how my body gave up on me at the same time you did.

One day, the door will be slammed one too many times and fall off its hinges.

while my body aches have slipped away, my heart ache is still there

it's 5 a.m.

you’re tired ,

that's the only time

you seem to want me.

whether it's alone

in your bedroom

under the sheets

or it's with your friends

in a crowded cafe,

it's only when you’re tired.

when you’re awake,

you won't put your lips on my edges.

you’re too busy touching over lovers,

rummaging through papers,

calling your friends,

laughing.

you seem to forget who woke you up.

who made you warm.

and tomorrow you will be tired again

and i will still let you

put your lips

on my edges

though i know

when you're awake

you won't need me.

but

my heart is bigger

than my head.

i am

so so warm,

and you are

so so cold.

cold enough to use me.

i - warm enough to not care.

because

you are so much happier

when

you’re awake.