Did you think of me when you said you loved her?
Because I was the first person you ever said that about
and you were drunk as **** but you meant it,
you say you still do.
You say you still love me
but you don't want to anymore because
she's here now,
but if all you needed was someone to
be here
then I don't ******* understand
why I wasn't enough.
I don't ******* understand how you can say
you've loved me so extensively
and then love her more so quickly.
If loving her means letting me go
then what the **** did loving me mean?
You
are broken bottles
and I had started seeing my reflection in the shards of glass
and I wonder if she's ever seen me.
I wonder if she's seen the scars on your knuckles
from broken mirrors,
wonder if you would tell her
that I was the anger that put them there,
that I was the one who wrapped gauze around the wounds.
Have you ever cried over me?
Have you cried over me
like I have over you?
Has your chest been hollow
like mine has?
Have you hated yourself
like I do?
Have you felt guilt?
Your pain
is the pulsing of my heart,
I can only feel it
when I think about it
or when life is still for a moment
but it is always there
and I know this,
and it kills me.
You know nothing of
the aching you have caused me
because I keep it buried
in the bottom of my heart
along with the nights you fell asleep holding me.
Does it feel the same when you hold her?
Do you feel safe with her body pressed against yours?
Is she home yet
or are you still settling in?
Maybe if you give her that bracelet of mine
that you used to wear
she will seem more familiar.
I wonder if you realize she looks like me
or if that's something you did subconsciously.
Do you ever mistake her eyes for mine?
Do you ever think about my hands when you're holding hers?
Do you remember what my hands feel like?
Did you think of me when you said you loved her?

Breathe.*
Choke on the cold,
feel your lungs tighten,
your teeth ache.
Hold your arms in themselves,
cradle them as they shake beneath goosebumped skin.
Walk.
Walk slowly so you do not force wind against yourself,
walk slowly so you do not have to choose where you are going yet,
walk toward light.
Let it spill over you,
feel its heat,
you,
still frozen at the core but the light,
it is so warm.
This.
This is what you have been waiting for,
what you wanted but could not articulate,
this gentle touch.
*Breathe.

Yesterday
I cried myself to sleep
at the pain in my head
the pounding
the twist of my stomach

Today
I wear dress instead of bow tie
don't think I can stand the stares in the hallway
don't want to explain to my dad
get called cute
force a smile
remind myself they say it as a compliment
turn red anyways

Tomorrow
I will lie to my therapist
tell her I'm improving
say I'm 3 months clean
won't tell her about the drinking
won't tell her I almost killed myself
won't tell her I still want to
won't cry

Don't want to do this
don't want to be here
don't want things to get better
just want them to end
just want to drink myself to death
just want to die
want to be gone
want to slice up my arms
want to bleed out
want to wake up in a hospital bed
want to stay there forever
want to stop trying to recover
want to get worse
want to die
want to die
want to die

I AM SO
EMPTY
I THINK
I MIGHT
CAVE IN

Don't know why this is so hard to write
don't know why my chest aches so much but it does
don't know why there is nothing I can draw or paint that looks like how my head feels
don't know why I want him to love me so bad
don't know how much longer I can go on
don't know if I want to go on
don't know how to tell them I have already given up when they are telling me to keep fighting don't know how to say I already lost
how to say I'm empty
how to say I am bleeding out slowly
how to peel back these bandages
how to let my wounds show
how to show them all the places I tried to stitch my skin back together
they aren't holding because my mom never taught me how to sew
don't know why I hate myself so much
don't know why he doesn't talk to me anymore
don't know if I should call him
don't know why I want to call him
don't know why she never ******* texts me
don't know why she claims to want me
don't know why she would ever want me
don't know where to put my hands
don't know why they're so sweaty
oh God why are they shaking
don't know why God never showed himself to me
don't know why no one ever showed me God
don't know why I need someone to love me so badly
want someone to hold me
why won't anyone fix me
why are people not fixable
why am I so broken
why am I crying

I'm starting to think that it's rare to find someone who doesn't have a piece of their heart left in someone else's hands that maybe there is no such thing as a true love just the love that comes last just the love that nobody else has to try to one-up I'm starting to think that maybe my dad is still in love with my mom and his new wife doesn't mind because maybe when you get older you realize that there is no such thing as wholeheartedly loving someone only loving them with the pieces that are left and maybe my girlfriend is still in love with her best friend because I saw the way he looked at her and I tried not to be jealous when they went off on their own at that party and I heard a girl say that she calls their relationship "complicated" and what the hell does that make me am I the complication and I'm trying not to be jealous but I've never made her laugh like he does and I'll probably never know her like he does and maybe all I can hope for is for her to love him from afar and love me up close maybe he is her house back in Mississippi and I am her new apartment maybe if she puts up curtains it will feel more like home I cannot explain the aching I felt in my chest when my last boyfriend said I reminded him of his ex it feels like the piece of my heart he was holding starting bleeding like maybe an artery sprung a leak because I am like her but not quite she is mural and I am replica she is mountain range and I am photograph she is morning walks on the beach and I am jar of sand I knew he was in love with her I could tell by the way he said her name after he ****** me I thought maybe second best was good enough I thought maybe if I do my make up like she does he will call me pretty today the ****** up part is that it worked the sad part is he didn't know why it hurt so bad maybe I am just hypersensitive maybe my girlfriend only loves him as a friend maybe by complicated she meant he loved her but she couldn't love him back but that's what I've been saying about that boy that said he loved me I keep telling myself I don't love him but on lonely nights he is the one I want to talk to he is always there in the back of my mind I wear his jacket when I want to feel safe because my girlfriend will probably never know me like he does maybe I will love him from afar and love her up close maybe he is my house before my dad moved out and she is his new place maybe if I hang up some paintings it will feel more like home I cannot explain the aching I felt in my chest when he said he loved me