i toss and turn,
unable to sleep
away from you --
you,
my safe place.

my home.

what happens after death?
no one really knows.
and honestly --
i don't think
i want to know.

some say
you go to heaven.
or hell.

others like to believe in
the afterlife,
in ghosts,
in wandering,
in haunting what's
left behind.

but me?
i just like to think
its just
that it's a kind of closure.
one thats quiet,
and final.
the kind that doesnt need
to be explained.

this feeling of
upset,
frustrated,
sad,
misunderstood,
mad --
just makes me want
to rip my hair out of my head
and punch something.

knowing i full well
do not have the strength
to do
either.

i would break my knuckles
punching something,
and hurt my hands trying to
pull all my hair out.

im too weak.
that's what this was all about anyway,
im mad because im weak,
im sad because im too quiet,
im frustrated because no one hears me!
no one truly understands
my brain
and that will never change
no matter what i do.

no one but me is in here.

i feel things loudly,
and it feels like
im being swallowed
by multiple intense
feelings
all at
once.

and it's just too much,
for one girl.
one brain.
one heart.
one voice.

it makes me want to yank my hair out
and punch something
until my knuckles are red and ******.

i think she likes me.
im just
not sure.
because that controlling
**** of a boyfriend
she has
is stopping me 
from ever really knowing.

she acts a way with him,
that makes it seem like
she's folding in
on herself.
he's homphobic,
agressive,
cold,
fifteen,
but already trying
to shrink the world
she lives in.

he checks her phone,
accesses her
social media via
her password
and getting mad
when she talks to
me.
what did i ever do?
she's allowed to
have friends.

but i think she likes me.
last night,
we flirted.
soft, small things --
but they felt
like secrets.
ones that if he knew,
he'd flip.
she'd say it was a friendly bunch
of compliments --
that meant nothing.
but her smile,
her eyes --
they told
a different story.

shes all i think about
day and night --
twenty-four / seven.
she's always
on my mind.

interstate,
but im still calling.
she always answers late,
never in the mood.
and she wont wait --
not for me.
and not for anyone.

she's infecting my dreams,
shes rewriting my thoughts,
even changing my music
into sappy love songs
i swore i hated.

she's taken over
my life,
my breath,
my hours --
day and night,
twenty-four / seven.

im tempted --
to dial your number,
to send that text,
to drive to yours,
to run into your arms.

im tempted.
because i miss you.
i miss your warmth,
your scent --
that cold vanilla
and lavender scent
that was yours,
and only yours.

but most of all
im tempted
to just cry.
crying over you
sounds like a waste of tears.
but it'll just 
have to do.
because for now,
its all i have.
and you're not here.

...and i don't think
you'll be coming
back.