you said to be more like you so i became a ghost too but i have taken your place as the one breaking dishes, shattered glasses refracting the cold light of morning-afters and you are silence and silence and silence and no matter how much noise i make or how many times i scream out your name into the dark you’re nowhere to be found; you’ll never come back around. you’re dead and you left me here alone on my own. i can never forgive you for this.

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.

deleted

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.

i am mine i am mine i am mine i am mine i am mine before i am anybody else’s i will swear up and down but you and i both know that’s not ******* true i am still yours i will always be yours because no shower can scald you from my skin no amount of scrubbing can take away the poison you’ve breathed into me

your ghost lives in my favourite music and i don’t wanna talk to you i don’t wanna listen to you
no i won’t listen to you anymore

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.

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.

"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.)

you don’t own me. you can rent my body for a night or three, but don’t knock on my heart’s door because there’s nobody home. you could try to break in but i’m circling you in the shadows with a can of gasoline and a box of matches, waiting to jump at the opportunity to ignite this night with a little more fun than the kind that can be promised with a bottle of gin and doing the horizontal shuffle against a boxspring.

you wanted to **** me, and that was fine with me, but then you got greedy and wanted to love me and darling this just won’t do; i don’t want it, i don’t want you. (you might be inside me, but you’ll never be able to find me)
plEasE... i want to hold you close, but you have been infected and when your body is near to mine, the bile tilts and drips into the perforations in my skin. i’ve already been worn thin and this acid hits deep to the exposed nerves strung together like broken piano strings and sparking frayed wire.

petulance is a small child with his index fingers in his ears and his eyes ******* shut, as if he can erase fact from factuality; "it didn’t happen. i can turn back time, i can restart this game. insert 4 coins.”

i’m not dancing anymore; my bones are cracked eggshells held together only by how still i can stay, tongue bitten raw with the focus placed on my concentration and concealing my previous reputation--man, i’m not lost, i’m just searching for the person i used to be.
--- i don’t accept who i was, so how could i accept who you are? you are tainted and i am rust and the primordial soup of stardust, decay, and dust.

i am one incapable of loving, i am ugly and there are no pretty words to dress up my hate; i’m dressed with rage, dressed to ****. i should play tennis, because love means absolutely nothing to me.

you are the kinda mistake i’ll learn nothing from.

oh honey she’s too busy thinking of creative ways of killing herself to pay you any attention,
lying at night with her limbs hanging off the sides of her bed beckoning the monsters underneath to pull her under.
maybe then will she have company so that the demons in her head can take the day off,
so she can breathe without the constant weight weighing heavy in her mind.

the only patterns in her grayscale world are self-made, nah, more like self-inflicted;
there’s the cigarette burns that dot her threadbare skirt and the
the only smile she has is the ones on her wrists, but somehow i think the jagged red lines weren’t made with lipstick, no not this time.

there’s grace in her stillness; she's coiled like a python about to strike.
bite before you’re bitten, yeah.
an arrow pulled back in the embrace of a bow, she hardly quivers.
aim and point,
determination to reach her target is the only constant she can count on
slicing through the air with a trained precision,
all teeth and fangs and broken glass.
no amount of touch can erase those who tracked dirt in her house before you,
you can’t make her forget the kisses trailed down her thighs before you,
not when those lips were dripping acid and winters passed, even now she still burns.
the corroding is invisible to everyone but her.
it will take more than snow to erase all that you’ve known

****** 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.