I hate you.
Almost as much as I love you.
I've been fantasizing about stabbing you in the legs the way I used to fantasize about kissing your face.
I thought that I had one person I could always count on,
I just knew you'd never betray me.
Guess I was wrong.

You broke my heart,
I want to break your spine.
You make the worst ex ever, and now you're mine.

I want to hurt you the way you hurt me.
I want to stuff glass into your arteries.
I want you to stop saying you're sorry.
I want you to invent a time machine,
So this'll never've happened.
So neither of us will've learned this lesson.

"Darling you're the world to me"
"My love, you make me so happy"
What an idiot I was to believe these things.
Now you've got me writing slam poetry
Because I figure it's better than murdering you-
And that little ***** you ****** too.

You were drunk!
You felt alone,
You were confused,
And guess who was right there to comfort you?
That's no excuse.
I sure hope going down on someone new,
Was worth throwing that rare and beautiful thing we had away.
I never knew someone could hurt me this way.
Oh and by the way, I hate you.

Readers of this poem may call me a narcissist,
But I wish to list the positives.
In a life full of negatives-
God knows I need them.

I stopped cutting,
It's been hard but I did it.
I wish I could say I'm proud of me,
Because I'm the only one who's noticed.

I haven't disobeyed my parents by driving others in my car.
And I've been good and my boyfriend and I haven't gone very far.
That's about it,
Other than that I'm failing and I feel like ****.

Being almost 18 is like purgatory,
Or at least it is for me.
A state of in between-
I hate being a teen.

Almost old enough to live on your own,
But there's school and no money so where would you go?
Not wanted at either house, you're already alone.
There's the screaming and throwing things with good intent,
Or the house you could never go back to again.

That's why it's purgatory.
Stuck in between and living though I'm not here, not really.
My soul is on a ten- year vacation, I hope it comes back well.
Maybe this isn't purgatory, maybe it's more like hell.

And all that I wish I could say,
I'll keep inside so you won't see.
Cuz when I'm hurt I tend to push others away.
I know that it's not healthy.
But I do it anyway.
Why'd you ever choose, to love me?

You know, it's kind of *******.
The people who say "Just talk to me when it's bad and you want to end it"
That those are the last people you'd want to tell.
You love them and you don't want them to worry.
Why should they too feel my hell?
They needn't be upset anymore by me.
You know they'd help because they love you.
But you don't ever want them sad and concerned just because you can't deal with things since you love them too.
I guess that's irony.

You'd only miss me because it's what you're supposed to do.
You'd miss me because you wouldn't remember that all I can do is **** up and hurt you.
All the times I've made you cry, how could you forget?
You'd just remember the good, to you that would be it.
I can only hurt you when I'm here because I'm a terrible person.
And I'd hurt you if I leave because you'd just remember the good parts- against all rightful reason.
I'm flawed and selfish and evil and that's not okay.
But if I left so I could spare you you wouldn't remember it that way.
Either way I'll hurt you and that's not fair.
It's a lose-lose situation and all I can see is that I leave only tears and ruins everywhere.
Would it help or hurt if I left a note?
Would it be something to comfort you or a reminder I felt this way long enough to sit down calmly and think about what I wrote?
I see no solution,
Like division by zero.
I'll only be speeding up the process of losing and ruining you if I do choose to go.
It's not your fault it's mine.
I know that now and that's why I'll be leaving you behind.

I'm jealous of your skinny jeans.
They hug you tighter than I do and they spend all day with you.
They feel places of your body I've never felt
And know your contours better than I do.
I'm jealous of your skinny jeans.