His soul is a broken record player
Constantly, he's making the same mistakes again and again

With every cough he spits out
from the overbearing cigarettes
It's his lungs crying inside

The red ink of his pen
is the resemblance of what drips into the sink after midnight
Thoughts process onto paper
just like the blade processes on his skin

And during the night
in his solemn and cold as a tombstone bedroom,
as he sleeps heavenly
the crickets chirp just outside his window
leaving me to think of it as the peace
that he and I have will never make

There's things being left unsaid
and it's tearing me down

From the nights of screaming at each other
to the times I've come home smelling like alcohol
with my eyeliner smudged
and my shirt being someone else's but yours

Realizing that I'm behind it all of why you're like the way you are
was just as hard facing the fact that you are the reason
why I'm like the way I am today

You're changing
and *I've changed

I hate myself for thinking
that I was the lucky one
when you were the broken one

Because since you've left
There's been a persistent dulling ache inside me
fueling with anything that reminds me of you
Keeping my heart tamed when I hear your name
is just as impossible to keep the tears from flowing

Now I know what it feels like to be broken
but you're not here for me
like I was there for you

I hated your drinking
I hated your smoking
I hated your tattoos

& I hated it when the store clerk asked me if it was a rough night when I purchased a dozen of roses

because replying, "yeah my friend's stuck in his grave"
was something I never wanted to say in my whole life

But here I am, a dozen roses in hand
and here you are, buried, and unseen

I miss your drinking
I miss your smoking
I miss your tattoos

Because at least you *were alive

Loving you is like
giving a eulogy
that never ends

I fell in love with his hands before I fell in love with him

Veiny & calloused
Sweet & gentle

They held me in a certain way
like the way I wished I had a grip on my life

His fingertips played a sweet melody
which had once put me to sleep in a finger snap

From teasing to caring
his hands were comfort

& now
I'm left with just my own
and nothing to hold