***** spews like words, oh wait, the other way...

Like that time at my best friend's wedding when I had to give a speech,
and even I knew I was full of **** talking about love being a fairy tale. But I was so drunk on Jello shots and Crown that I talked myself into believing it for four years.

Like that time I said too much to make a boy stay just one more night, and I gave up my freedom for silence and dishes and diapers.

Like the first boy I ever loved falling back into my lap and my mouth moving faster than my head can keep up with... is this even a good idea?

Words flow freely in open silences because I cannot stand the sound of nothing around me when the noise inside of me is so loud; all this has done is get me into trouble.

It's only with this ache between my thighs
I think,
"Maybe I've tried to **** away my
feelings
one too many times."
And every kiss feels like a last goodbye.
Sweat pools like old fights and old memories and old wounds and old scars and old heartbreaks;
I'm left wondering if this will heal
or break me.
You have more power than you know.
To unravel me in more ways than
quivering beneath you with my
hands in your hair and your name
on repeat tumbling from my mouth
like a prayer,
or a curse.
Is it a prayer or a curse?
******* away the pain, or allowing someone to come back in and break
every wall back down again...
Pull me back to you again and let me know if I am what you want
or if this is just insulation for
another cold winter alone.

I cannot hide from my own thoughts.
It may be dark in here, but I know someone has to have a match.
And if my words are kerosene, yours are flint.
That silver tongue of yours may find use after all;
abrasive enough to catch.
I was never afraid of the heat of fire, but these dark spots in my memory burn too bright with time and too many lit matches.
The smell of sulfur forever a reminder.
I was never afraid of the heat of fire, but these ******* scars are a constant reminder
that sometimes darkness isn't so
scary after all.

It does not make me sad that you have moved on, that her face is next to yours in pictures now.
Sometimes it surprises me; I remember the four years that she was me. It's almost a shockwave to see her where I used to be...
a little moment of confusion when I forget that that narrow joint under your shoulder is no longer my home
But I see your smile and it makes me smile still. There is no falling out of love, only changing the way you love. I have every amount of love for you, just hidden in different cavities, pushed back in memories, reserved for who I was then and not who I am now.
She is so beautiful, so alive, so in the moment with you that I am so thrilled that she has become me, that what was once a face I had memorized is hers to kiss now, that you have someone that cares so very much about you.
Isn't it nice to know that all of that practice we did together paid off? That us loving each other then taught us to love others so much better? That the holes that we once filled in each other's lives, triangles that should have been square, are now boxed in corner to corner with people who fit wrapped into us so much better.
It makes my heart full to know that you've found that happiness.
What a blessing that I can say that we are both finally happy apart.

I write when I am sad, when I am angry, when I am happy, when I am lost

It is easier when people critique my writing than when people trivialize my feelings

No one could ever know just how I'm falling apart,
Slowly sinking, swiftly sinning
Dug myself a new hole today, six feet under doesn't seem so deep after consideration
If I hold myself together with duct tape and glue, another boy's arms, another goodnight kiss from another stranger
Does that make me stronger or just stupid?
Whatever's waiting for me,
that **** better hurry up
I'll be too far gone
For even fate
to find
me

I would sing praises of you to the world...
if only you would remove
your hand from
my mouth

I could never know just how dangerous being a lamb is until I fell for the lion.
He could easily snap me in half, mentally, emotionally.
He is all predator, cool calm and collected.
All harsh lines and sharp tongue
All confidence and cockiness
But the way he moves, so beautifully
It breaks my heart.
And I am the sick ******* that can't bear to let go,
I would run if I wasn't so busy being caught up in him
So busy wanting to put him back together
Because he wasn't always a lion, wasn't always this.
He was a cub once, a smaller version of himself now
Lesser and more
But I will fall asleep tonight thinking of his roar
And what it does to my heart
Not afraid, but utterly transfixed
Stupid, stupid lamb
For falling in love with the lion.

Ours was a bitter kind of love from the start
Bitten lips ****** around kisses
Handprints bruised onto each other
My fingerprints still rest in your shoulders
My legs still know how to wrap around your hips
My mouth still mumbles the
yes, please, ****, yessss
Even when you're not around
Separated by miles, by time
By mouths who have known other tastes
My fingerprints are on other shoulders now
The pills I swallow are no longer a part of you
And it takes every ******* part of me not to whisper your name into someone else's ears
Ours was a doomed love, wrecked and wretched
But you may still call my body your home
Should you wish