15, sitting on the edge of your bed,
you told me that you couldn't love me
because the small of her back
fit so perfectly pressed against your palms
and the pink colored thighs matched
the flushed cheeks, and it always,
always drove you wild to watch her
strip down, layers of cotton, denim,
lace.
i asked you if the weight of her own
existence kept her up at night, or
how she got that crescent shaped scar
placed delicately under her left eye.
the blank stare you replied with
made me wonder what the point
to seeing someone naked was
when all they take off are
their clothes.

6 months later, you tell me that
skin renews itself every twenty seven days
and it's been 4 weeks since
you last held her. you smiled
with full lips and said you felt like
you finally rid yourself of her.
it's been a year since
you really spoke to me and
i'm still wondering how
you could love someone if
all they touched was your skin.

your mother used to
think of me as a street drug
but the bigger problem was
that she didn't treat you
like an addict and you
did not act like one.

your mother is gone now
and unable to see the real
street drugs you've been
hiding under your tongue
and in your pockets
but i'm sure she'd still
look at me as if i were
death itself.

we went out for coffee
as friends, to a place
we used to go to all the time
and i'd ask for the same thing
up to a point that you stopped
asking me

but after the long line and
under the warm cafe lights
i was thinking about how
this felt just like old times
until it was almost our turn
to order, when you looked
at me and asked,
"what do you want?"

i drank my coffee,
i stuffed the unpaid for
books in your bag,
i smoked two cigarettes
on the 5 minute drive
back to my house

and left you at the door.

all my friends loved drugs or liked to get ****** up
my boyfriend would shoot ****** and paint with my blood
i’ll sure as hell miss downing pills
but i think i want to live instead

i loved white nights bleaching my eyelids
i loved brunette boys who made me feel like jesus
getting ****** on rooftops watching the sun collapse
but i’m tired of waking up and feeling like ****

i had fun drinking ***** on hot, summer nights
and placing pills under my tongue until the world was vivid neon lights
holding hands with the boy who drank too much lean
but i think i want to make it past 2013

when you were 6,
you made homes for faeries under trees.
now you just hope they choose to live in your lungs,
help you appreciate the magic of breathing.
i am your collapsable lover
and you've got a body like a wreck
i can't stop looking at.

i know a boy who’s afraid of the dark
and that’s why he won’t ever kiss me.
i took nothing but hours, left nothing but bruises.
you responded to my tears calmly,
with only a shrug.
you put your hoodie on & went out for a cigarette.
i left before you came back.

*i am a glass girl with diamond wrists,
this is how i love.