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Kathy Myers Jan 21
I want you to be afraid of losing me
Maybe it'll happen today (tomorrow)

I am all in and you can’t be bothered to see that
I deserve to have my love returned just as fiercely as I give it (away)
Kathy Myers Jul 2018
01:47 pm
Inevitable doom.
That's what he said.
He was right.
Let's face it.
We both knew he was leaving.
Kathy Myers Jan 21
The happily ever after (that we both never shared)

That night you looked at me, told me your hopes, dreams, plans.
I had never known, never asked.
I assumed (was scared) you didn't think the same as me
I wasn't sure it was real, convinced it was a good dream.

Until the next morning you pulled me close,
whispering you want to wake up next to me until we are wrinkly and gray. (I am going to love you until the end)
Kathy Myers Apr 2011
There are mud stains on the back of my jeans.
Empty glasses in the sink.
The blanket on the living room floor.

My lungs stop working every time I look at them.
Air getting caught in my throat.
I clean up, and it becomes real:
It's over.
Kathy Myers Jun 2020
you've been gone longer than you were even here (stop trying to add me on social media)

you don't get to be written about (anymore), don't get to see where I am, how I've grown

fairy tales do exist, you just weren't mine (sixteen year old me would be crushed)
Kathy Myers Jan 2011
He's not the kind of guy who will stay under false pretense.
Doesn't read big into commitment and doesn't exactly plan for future.

She sticks around with smiles.
Wanting just a little more of him, knowing she can't have it.

She's not the type of girl to leave the ones she loves.
(They usually leave her.)
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
Those baby blues swept across my face.
(You thought I wasn't looking)
I wonder what you're thinking or what you see when you look at me.

Almost 20. Going no where.
Moving around from place to place.
Can't stop, can't stop, can't stop.
Am I really what you want?
Because you are exactly what I need.
(A breath of fresh air)
Kathy Myers Jul 2010
The cold fall air rushed to meet him as he softly shut the door.
The leaves scattered around the sidewalk making music.
His hair blew in the wind and his breath left trails in the sky.

The snow started to fall as he walked away with a heavy heart.
(She watched from behind the curtain.)
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
I looked at him, and told him exactly what was on my mind.
(But before I did I told him I was scared to tell him)
"I love you." And there was a pause (as if I would say more)
and he just silenced whatever it was I was going to say
by slipping me a gentle kiss and replying,
"I absolutely love you."
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
She says ***** like it's a bad thing.
But I smile and give her a small look.
It feeds my ego.
My words feel like poison in her veins
and I honestly don't give a flying **** what she thinks of me.

So I walk away.
Swaying my hips just a tad.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
She counted the ringing bells.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
They echoed through the empty church.

She walked down the isle, a knot in her stomach.
Her father smiled at her from where he sat.
He's proud of her recently.
If only he knew.

She sat down and the minister said a prayer.
She went through the motions.
In the name of the Father, Son, Holy Spirit.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.
It's been almost 10 years since I believed in God.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
She puts her hand in his back pocket.
I know they're going home together tonight.

She's about as predictable as a fortune cookie (everything always ends in bed.)
In three days she'll forget the whole thing. (I wish everything in life was that easy.)
Kathy Myers Apr 2012
Your hand in mine driving home (we took the long way on purpose)
Tasting of summer heat and strawberries
Sun disappearing behind the horizon

Even though the words go unsaid
we'll stay like this for a little while longer
with the radio softly blaring and the fireflies lighting our way.
Kathy Myers Oct 2012
The crisp, clean air of fall is heavy.
Your hand manages to find mine.
(I don't know what you want.)

Leaves dancing in the wind.
Mugs of hot tea and coffee.

The winter months will be long and lonely.
Kathy Myers Jul 2018
The dream on repeat,
you know, the one with the diamond.

Mentioning my fears, you did nothing to calm them.

The dream stays a dream
(always a bridesmaid, never the bride)
Kathy Myers Mar 2010
Your skin smelled of smoke, ( campfire not nicotine. )
When you grabbed me and held me (as if I would run from you.)
Told me you loved me and when I laughed, you told me I was beautiful.
And when I'm with you that is exactly how I feel.
Kathy Myers Apr 2011
I jumped in head first, not seeing what a danger it was loving you.
You played your part in my fairytale - but I never got my perfect ending.
I never knew anything was wrong until you were gone.
How is that possible when you claimed I knew you well?
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
The beer on your breath gave you away.
Your head nuzzling against my head,
(in all the right spots).
And you asked me what your Christmas present was,
and I let you unwrap me,

Later I told you it was also your New Years present.
You smirked and said it was only fair.
You don't even want a girl in your life.
I'm ready to move in with my (non-existent) boyfriend,
(but obviously only in my dreams).
Kathy Myers Feb 2013
You snapped and cursed at me in the kitchen.
Slamming the door behind you,
you didn't catch the sound of my heart breaking on the floor.

I want you to be afraid of losing me.
(I'm not sure I can keep this going).

This is the second time you've left me broken.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
The smell of coffee and black sharpie fill your senses
Dragging yourself out of bed, you wrap the sheet around your naked body
Your head hurts more with every movement, every thought.

The sticky note on the door
written in small, squished, boy-like writing
"I never promised you forever."
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
Her bare feet slapped against the pavement.
Tulle skirt stuck to her sweaty thighs.
The first drop fell.
Rain came that day.

Arms outstretched, she started to twirl.
Until the footsteps came near.
Out of time with the thunder claps and bursts of light.
She stopped and stared.

He was there.
Drenched in the rain.
She laughed and pulled him to dance with her.
Kathy Myers Aug 2011
As he slept she noticed the way his lashes fluttered with each intake of breath.
The way his hair fell across his forehead.
He stirred, his baby blues searching her eyes.
"What are you looking at?" He mumbled at her as he pulled her close.
"Nothing..." She whispered into his chest.
As he nuzzled her neck as his breathing slowed as he fell back to sleep with her wrapped in his arms.
“I love you.” She said to his sleeping outline as she finally drifted off to sleep.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
I ripped you to shreds
and hid you in my drawer
(but you were real tonight.)

I miss the taste of cigarettes
with idle chatter
ending in a snowball fight
with smiling faces
(and dripping noses.)
Kathy Myers Feb 2010
The wipers interrupted our strained silence.
Even the radio was turned off (I was trying not to cry.)
You were ever-so angry and I was ever-so sorry.

Later, you told me over the phone I was special and you loved me.
I just wasn't sure you meant it until you showed up on the doorstep.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
When the cop appears we go the speed limit.
When his tail-lights dissaper
His foot is back on the gas pedal.
Pushing us faster and faster.

We take curves at dangerous speeds.
And I feel my body like a rag doll.
My body disobeys me as I try to stay centered.
Gravity wins and pulls me close to the window when we turn right.
Kathy Myers Jul 2010
I went with you to your cousins wedding reception.
I could tell you were uncertain about asking me, you were hesitant and nervous.
Like if you asked it would mean this is a significant relationship. (Your fear of commitment still surprises me.)

Dressed to impressed I met your aunts and uncles.
Plastered with smiles I chatted with your sisters, and laughed with your parents.

Later you told me I was beautiful and kissed me on the cheek.
Thanked me for coming with you.
To me, that was the best part of the night.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
The girl was weaving through the crowd.
Her bright green tutu glowed against the black backdrop of concert lighting.
She was magical, the little nymph thrashing around to the pop music was surprising and yet she didn't look out of place.
She had rainbow thigh-highs, long girly dreads, and beautiful half-sleeve tattoos.
I wanted to be as free as she looked.
And then the lights came up, the music gone and she was no where to be found.
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
The door closes at three am.
Smelling of beer (not mine)
and cigarettes (I only had one).

The past week I don't report to anyone.
I don't have to tell where I am, who I've been with,
what I've been doing.

There is no satisfaction in that.
I want someone to care.
(Just like he said he did.)
Kathy Myers Jan 2010
Ribbons in you hair.
Diamonds in your ears.

Magazine clippings line the floor.
Pictures clutter the desk.
Friends, lovers, family.

You feel like a faked ******, unwanted.
Clinging to what you know is right
and bordering what you know is wrong.

Playing Russian roulette with fate.
Rolling the dice and raising the stakes.
Neither will save you now.

But don't forget to smile and
Bat your lashes.
For when we leave you to rest in peace.
Kathy Myers Jul 2012
Staying awake all night.
You next to me, chest barely rising.
(I have to put my hand there just to make sure.)

At four you wake, go fetch a water for us to share.
Ask if I've slept, when I reply you sigh and rub my back in a dreamy haze.

"We lose ourselves in the things we love
We find ourselves there, too."
Kathy Myers Feb 2010
The blankets found their way to the floor
the movie half finished but not yet watched.
I turn to look at you and in return receive an impish smile
as you nuzzle your face in my neck.

You know what that does.

— The End —