She couldn't help but weep with
A red rose in her lap and his
Fingerprints on her heart
Tears kept falling and hatred
Built in her eyes.
The rose grew pale
As her eyes shown red and
Thorns grew in her heart
Leave it to him and a red rose
To turn an angel into
A girl just like him.
She had always preferred
White roses.

I've had this bruise on my hand
For about 4 days
I have thought for
Hours
Upon
Hours
About where it came from.
But I will admit that I have no clue.

I noticed it Monday night
Oh, you must remember that afternoon
It was nothing compared to others
But you held my hands up against the wall
And over my head as we kissed
The black mark on my skin
Looks to be the shape of your thumb
You've never been able to hold a hand
Without your thumb over their own

We never get to hold hands anymore
That would be too complicated
Maybe we held them a little too
Tightly when given the chance.

And maybe, just maybe,
There is a bruise on the back
Of your left hand.

Let you and I retreat to a room
And talk of it
Let it fall upon you
And question you and me.
Women come and go.
I dare to say
In a minute I
Should know you in the way
I have known perfume
That makes me digress
And I shall say that
Lonely men have
Stretched here beside you.
I have wept upon the moment
My greatness would
Have been worth you and me
Would it have been worth while
To have to question all you say?
I mean if the worth should
Mean all I meant -
Almost a fool.
I shall sing till we drown.

It's alright if you fall in love with a girl
Who has a rather grotesque addiction.
But keep in mind that she will want it
When you ask her to give it away
And that she will,
At times,
Choose it over you.

Because it has been around longer than your suitcase
Which she expects to be moved any day now
Like all of the others who have seen
How the disease spreads over her like an ocean
But this one is blood red and there is no
Ridding her skin for there are too many stains
And not enough soap or love in the world
To clear them off of her
But she's just hoping that enough
***** and cigarettes and *** will make them fade.
She will push you away when she craves it
She will not be able to stop and you should know
It is never your fault.
She's just addicted.

Do you remember that girl you fell for in middle school?
How she smiled and laughed and kept your attention?
Do you remember how she left you?
And all you wanted was to have her back?
That is her addiction.
It is so purely sweet and blissful to her.

A warning to the one who shall fall.
It will haunt your dreams.
You'll become addicted to her like she
Is to what keeps her sane.
You will want her to stop.
You will want her to see and find something better.

You won't be the first.
She already has your suitcase packed.

So tonight
I'm letting go.

The last time I got upset at a relapse,
She told me that I was going to be okay.
That the people who love me would never
Change that because I got bad again.

I want to say I'm sorry, though.
My girl asked me to stop.
I told them all of the past 9 months.
They yelled and said they would
Check my body everyday for
Any more signs of self hatred.
But I can't think straight and
It's been a week and all they've done
Is pop a pill into my mouth and
Yelled when I couldn't calm myself
Down as quickly I used to.
So maybe it'd be okay to break
If only for tonight.

I still remember her voice that night
When I could have had her at my lips
But told her no and listened to her
Utter in a broken way,
"Just one more."
I can feel that voice showing into
My everyday conversations and
I can't shake this feeling that
I'm not complete without it.

So, as a warning,
I'm breaking tonight.

I want my poetry to start
Making sense again.