your hands tighten around my neck and my breathing stops.
i think for a moment that this is love.

you have always punched, kicked, slapped me. i just don't care anymore.

this is love to you, but
this isn't love to me anymore.

he wouldn't date me,
but he'd 10/10 "smash."

he'd take apart of me,
but wouldn't appreciate me.

he never called me beautiful,
but hot and **** were first to leave his lips.

when he looked at me,
he didn't look in admiration,
rather accomplishment.
another one to add to the list.

but when it was just me and him,
he talked to me for real.
he told me about what he wanted from us.
he said we'd last awhile.
i questioned him about his previous cheating,
and he replied,
"it's always been you."

he held my hand for the first time,
on his way to drop me off.
he later cuddled me,
wrapped up in his arms.

"it's always been you."
it's always been you.
but i don't need you,
and you sure as hell don't need me.

I love it when it rains.
I love it when it pours, and lightning and thunder crash down,
hard. I love it when the noise of the thunder quiets down the crashing plates and pans, because dad got a little tipsy tonight. I love it when I can run outside and completely ruin my day-to-day appearance. oh if only you knew how much I hate how I look everyday. when I can play in the rain, but only when no one is around. I can't let people believe I'm a child, again.
I love it when I'm alone.
I love it when the silence becomes so much that my thoughts are screaming at me like someone attending their favorite artists concert. I love it when I finally get the hint. I get the hint and shut up and put myself on mute. I always end up cracking, I can't help but spill the things that take place at night. Night. Don't you just love night? when the moon has rose and the stars are out. you receive those, "you up" texts. people are asleep and its just you sitting outside, running outside. running.
running is just beautiful, isn't it? amazing how you're feet can take you places, places you didn't know you wanted to go. you can leave, take off and never return if you'd like, but my feet always end up at you're door. and when you're done being pleased, my little feet run home. there's only a few tears this time! how exciting! I must celebrate. I'll crack open my newly bought pack of cigs, just to indulge in five at a time. It's just lovely watching the smoke dance. I can't ever get enough.
You can't either. maybe that's why I want you more than you would ever want me, because I can never get enough of you and you can never get enough of the joy you get out of being uh pleased.
what joy I get out of writing though. it's like when you can't speak to the people around you, whomever they are. you can sit and write down whatever you please. I could write about you or I could write about what I didn't eat. I can talk about how low my weights gotten(only a few more pounds to shred!!) or about the lovely book I've been reading.
I don't know where I went with this one though. I don't know where I went. "I don't know who you are" someone told me that and I've never been able to reply(still can't hehe) but I must close this up,
whatever this is. whatever I'm just as confused as you.

I'm only here because I have to be, you have something personal of mine. Nothing more, nothing less. Let's call it business.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't need it. I don't need you anymore. I never needed you. I don't need you to be here, I just need it back.

But you see, you have my heart still and I need it back to leave. Can I please just leave? I need it back. I need to leave. I need you out of my life, but I can't have that if you own my heart,
so, please
just give it back and I will be on my way. Please.