No matter how much scrubbing I do, your fingerprints and DNA are still left all over my body.

The way you
spoke to me,
ever so witty and clever;
made my stomach
a sanctuary for
spring butterflies.
The brief, but simply
sweet looks you gave.
My heart, always
like a popsicle on
a hot, steamy summer day
in july.
it was always
the little things.

I miss the way you would grab my hips while we were intertwined in your sheets.

I can't wait.
I can't wait
to one day
press my lips
against your lips.
I can't wait
to one day
feel your warm skin on mine.
I can't wait
to one day
feel you,
a part of me.
Again.
*I cannot wait.

You did this to me.
You created this in me.
You made me out to be what I am today.
You ripped me apart, from the outside in.
Then you left.
And now I'm left
to fend for myself.
Alone.
Alone.
So lonely.

I'm craving you
Not just ***
Not just intimacy
But love.
Making love to be exact.

I feel as though my handwriting isn't pretty enough to write down the ugly thoughts in my head.

No amount of drugs I do, no amount of alcohol I drink, and no amount of boys I kiss will ever make me forget you.

We were lovers,
we were lovers
or so it seemed.

We were lovers,
with burning souls
and hearts on fire.

We were lovers,
always heavy
never taken lightly.

We were lovers,
or so it seemed.
Maybe we were
never in love at all.

I keep
Writing and erasing.
Typing and backspacing
All of the things you will never get to hear me say.

One of the many things you will have to believe without seeing is the way people choose to survive.

Circling thoughts.
Straight shots.
Six steps behind.
Can't move forward.
Stuck.
Same position.
Falling down.
Climbing back up.
When will this ever be enough?

I stopped writing.
I stopped writing
because I thought
maybe then you would
dissolve into nothing
just like I did to you.
But you stayed, more
present than ever,
you stayed.