you were alone.

you needed someone

i was available (maybe too available)

you thought you loved me.

and then you realized you didn't.

and you didn't want to hurt me.

so you carried on

pretending


because it was easier.




It's okay.






                  **I probably would have done the same thing

if i thought they were dumb before,


now (after the geologist broke my heart)


i think they're

lethargic,
obtuse,
pointless,
inane,
futile

(boring as ******* hell).



i will now stay away from men in climbing boots.


so, thank you.

that's how you convinced me to jump in the sack with you.



those three words.


"it's not just *******"

it's pure uncensored emotion


what emotion?


which one?


because it certainly wasn't love
- you never loved me, ever.


it definitely wasn't happiness
-you never made me happy


for sure wasn't excitement
-you never got excited about anything important




so what was it?


anger?
******* me to get revenge
who?

Your mother?

Your ex?




yourself?





maybe it was
heartbreak

******* me
to feel numb
so it doesn't hurt as bad








                                                                  maybe it was boredom.



                                  Yep,





                                                                i think that was it

This coffee (my second cup today)
gives me the shakes
and tastes like cold syrupy mud
I swallow it down
past my gag reflexes

out of nervousness

Sitting alone
in a coffee shop


with no one to talk to

trying to convince
myself
that



that's okay






so far, it's really not working.

isn't it silly


that i buy cigarettes

and smoke them
hoping to calm myself

(hoping to
forget about the
****
you put me through)



and realize that
I would rather
get hit


by a moving van

than to inhale

this

nasty

****.


I stomp it out

with
no regrets

why


does


it


still


hurt




*But on the other hand,



my heart is saying


thank you

to my voice

what a
hypocritical mess
I am.                                "forget about him
                                             he's no good for you"
                                                           -i tell her

But i am hung up
                and down

hanging by a thread
                         noose
                         string

by the strings with which you
                               strung me along

a long
way from home, I
                                    walk on

an adventure for
                               one

I reminisce of when
                              we walked

all over the compass rose
                                      rising up

rising sun,
raising me up



from the dirt.

I did that.

I am the strong woman

who screams from the bottom of her lungs
from the top of stadium road


i don't need anyone


what a crock of ****