you told me your biggest fear was ending up like your dad. that all your hardest work will only lead you to stare into the mirror and watch as it cracked from your knuckles because all you see staring back at you is him.

you said he caused pain,
he caused destruction.
every moment was a ticking time bomb and i can’t help but cower, i can’t help but want to hold a knife to my chest — even when i panic on which side the blade should be pointed. where it should be buried.

my hands shake and match the tempo of your anxiety, you tell me your fears and i drink them up like liquor that makes me want to purge it back out.

because when the time comes
and you have me by the heart,
i cower. you have me feeling as if i’m smaller than you and i can see you like it. a good person does not harm the ones they love, you bruised me way too many times yet broke your own fingers to make sure none pointed at you. you’re always upset, and i’m always sorry.

and maybe thats something you need to hear. because baby, you’re just like him.

you knock on my door in a way a ghost haunts their crime scene. there’s nothing in your hands but sorrow, yet i race to you anyways. i take your cold trembling limbs and attempt to make them warmer (even when i know the ice is from within.)

you tell me you try to find me in every soul you meet, every daylight your shadow tries to drown in. but darling, i know this time will end up like the last.

you come, and then you go.
i give, and then you take.
i think you will change and you give me the false security that’s enough for me to fall back into the arms i desperately tried to rip off me. i run back to what i was running from.

but baby, please mark my words when i say you will never touch me again and you will continue to fill that void i left because thats only fair after what you gifted me.

i clenched my fist and this goodbye for so long, i choked it down with my tears and held you to sleep while you hiccuped apologies that you’ll be better. but my darling evermore, i cannot be the person you hurt just because you’re hurting. i cannot be that person anymore.

right now you are dissecting a love that may never pass your twisted version of an examination, and that’s okay.

because the next time you come back to my door, i will not be there to open it. next time you come back, i’ll be gone.

i clenched my fist and this goodbye for so long, i choked it down with my tears and held you to sleep while you hiccuped apologies that you’ll be better. but my darling evermore, i cannot be the person you hurt just because you’re hurting. i cannot be that person anymore.

this love of ours had always been a lie. a fabricated story that had gone too far and twisted our hearts in more ways than we were ready for — more than what we could ever afford. with fleshy gums you ask me why does this hurt so bad and i tell you it’s only to make it fair — passing out in midnight hues, i tell you i love you despite knowing the ache in my chest with each syllable i bleed only intensifies and i crave nothing more than to be swept in between the cracks of your winter undertones and to be left in your ruins. you tell me you love me despite the crushing of your windpipe making the echoing of sobs erupt bitterly in your chest cavity, the flames that rise in your belly make you want to itch at it yet you yearn to be set ablaze.


because i asked you with fleshy gums of my own, why does this hurt so bad and you look me in the eyes and tell me its only to make it fair.

you’re not allowed to miss me.
not when you had me in between the lines of your palms so deep i could not find where you stopped and i began — to the point i merged within your being — you don’t get to miss the spine shudder i gave you now that you are left hollow and seeking solace elsewhere — craving the one thing you failed to give but loved to take

you cried wolf so much — ripped out far too many hearts to feast on that you forgot to guard your own, the security system only being a thin layer of your pride

you are not allowed to miss me
because once i finish drinking your blood, there will be nothing left of you to dissolve in my shadow.

there’s something wrong with me. there has to be — because how else would i have been able to look into your eyes, touch your soul, and taste the warmth it lacked? how could i stomach you so easily yet still want to purge you up like bad liquor? you never were quite right, but that’s okay. because somehow, that’s just what i liked.

i beg of you — romanticize me.

when my bones get heavy, and my eye-bags darken — romanticize the way i still slide my hands into yours and allow myself to melt in your embrace, no matter how much it aches to breathe. no matter how much more i crave from you but cannot do. the pain turns into pleasure and this pleasure is pain.

romanticize the lack of words i attempt to create, to express in my own fashion when all i can do is show through repeated phrases that make me more machine than human.

that is all i am — all i can be
but please romanticize me.