DXM-choke me down, restart again because your princess is in another castle and she's shacked up with some *******; a trailer-sailor with cheap beer on his breath and his roving hands groping for her chest. You've already folded before you check the hand you've been dealt because this is the worst pain you've ever felt and so you robotrip 'til you imagine you've sunk his ship. Hide behind these substances that you pretend give your life sustenance, but they don't and I see you clearly and hold you like a child to my chest dearly; please don't fear me. I'm not trying to flirt, I just want to soothe your hurt, but I'm too weak and too meek to assist, so I don't insist. Just pretend I don't exist; not a malignant tumor, but benign cyst, and what humor; a dark twist.

deleted

there’s that quote on the internet that goes, “every cell in the human body replaces itself after 7 years, one day i will have a body that you have never touched,”

and it is false. asides from the fact that many cells need ten years before they’re fully replaced, neurons in the cerebral cortex never do; even if some die, you keep the ones you were born with and my body is clean from your touch, but my mind was not as lucky to escape your poison and day-by-day i erode until i’m left shaking and sobbing, wishing i could rip my own skin off and crack through my skull to peel away layers of my stupid, stubborn, recalcitrant brain.

maybe it was my fault. i should’ve known better than to trust a demon in a man suit, but i was looking at the small flickering coals of you, a fire built at your birth and then forgotten along the way, so you had nearly died even as you lived, so i gently fed the fire and stoked the flames and in return you blazed up in one mighty inferno and scorched me and everything and everyone else around us and it was still i who was contrite, you turned this around on me and it was i who apologized and collapsed crying on the floor.

mom never told me not to play with fire, it’s my own ****** fault i got burned.

Like a squiggle in your eye; blink,
and
I'm
gone
because I am all lipstick smudges left under carefully-pressed lapels, or Sharpied innuendos scrawled on bathroom walls in dingy bars.
A souvenir from one ephemeral moment, a fleeting tryst of dispassion (from my side at least); before I am scrubbed bare and raw.

DON'T YOU TOUCH ME, for I am so tender.
Thrown into the wash;
you can clean me, but the stain remains.
The scent of sugar, sweat and shame.

You're searching for even the slightest validation for your inexcusable actions, transient in both values and the physical realm, collecting conquests and usurpees like how one might collect trophies from animals they hunt, faces frozen in a false expression with unseeing glassy eyes as they are forever immortalised in your sick collection to be made a mockery of long after the passage of time takes it's toll on both the images and the subjects.
A calculated maliciousness disguised as an indecisive personality, you are a bottom-feeder grafting onto the bellies of whomever are blissfully unaware or trusting enough to swim by you; but your own is yellow as a summer's day is long; not from just cowardliness, no, but from **** (sans the vinegar), and I wish I could compose this prose into something a little less hateful and a little more tasteful, but I won't spare you another second of my time, I'll erase you from my mind.

****** ILLOGICAL. bite to break skin, I'm rampant chaos; burning Hellfyre within.
sharpened edges, razor kiss, a dance on the edge of this galaxy.
tilt at the axis and ill crash,
supernova blinding flash
but i wont ****** burn out.
no,
ill just burn your retinas and scar you,
leave you wandering the bleak dark night you stranded me to.
all of the doctors pills and all of the kings men couldnt put cassie back together again.
DOA.
ill hitch a ride on the tail of the next comet straight outta this galaxy because everything here means nothing to me,
least of all, you.

"It's been a long day without you my friend,
and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again." - Wiz Khalifa, 'See You Again.'

I think of you every day. There hasn't been one day where you haven't stomped your combat boots around the darkness of my mind.

Yesterday was a bad day where everything especially reminded me of you; you, who shot himself in the head earlier this year. I woke up this morning frantically searching for my phone to go on Facebook in a panic because I had a very real-feeling dream where another friend killed herself, too. I wanted to hold her hand and kiss her sweet face. I wanted to ask her why she didn't tell me. I wouldn't have stopped her, I would've held her hand and jumped off that bridge with her.

I woke up feeling like my chest was collapsing and I found out that it wasn't true, but I am still without you and
I don't know what makes me sadder, the fact that I can't let you go, or the fact that I'm still ******* here. Even my body rebels against me, against my attempts to strip this universe of my existence.

I don’t know what makes me madder, people, or having to act like everything is okay.
I go through the motions, I follow routine, but there's nothing inside. (The lights are on, but nobody's home.)

You are a ghost, but you are the man that I love most. Try as I might, but I can't let you go. It's been 9 months, minus 2 days and I have missed you for every. single. moment.

It's not fair. 19.5 years is not long enough for a good person to live. What have you endured that has broken you? Are they like what has broken me? There's so many unanswered questions, you robbed those you left behind of their answers. There's so much of life you will never see. You'll never get that house with the white picket fence, no dogs or cats, no kisses or impromptu late night walks to nowhere, no wishes of 'goodnight's and 'good luck's (Hell, no one even got as far as the last chance for 'goodbye.'), but then again, neither will I.

You haunt me. I would ask--I would beg--if you could please visit me in my sleep, but I don't sleep so much anymore.

// (I don't believe in any biblical Heaven or Hell, but if there is somewhere good people go after they die, I hope it is each person's personalised halcyon. I hope you finally received the freedom, happiness, and love that you did not in this life. If you are short, I will see you soon, and I will bring all of the third.)