My bed smells like you,
So I've been sleeping on the couch.

To be what they want
Is to win a battle
To be who you are
Is to win a war

And suddenly,
it dawned on me.
My lack of feeling.
It was because
He wasn't You.

When our sweat dries
          You light your cigarette
                   After I meet your needs.
Will I be like
          The curling smoke
                  You let disappear into the air?

Drunken poems never work for me.
Sitting outside,                      
Smoking my cigarette,
Clutching my bottle of momentary respite
But here I sit writing it.

You inspire this in me.
Not the drinking (to an extent)
But the writing.
Without you I would never of started
Without the pain you unknowingly cause

I smile even though I'm hurt.
You make me smile.
You make me hurt

I'm sad now so this is done.

I want you.
You don't want me.
Let's get together and sit in a room and I'll be really awkward around you all the time because whenever I look at you I notice some new beautiful feature.
Some laugh line or that the curvature of your right ear is at a higher degree than the curvature of your left ear.
Or that when you smile I can't help but smile because, well look at you.
And I feel that you just look right through me.
I may be many things,
Crazy, for falling for you.
Stupid, for the same reason.
But the one thing I'm not is invisible.
I'm worth looking at.
Even if it's just for a second.

How many more seconds until this cigarette is all but broken ash?

How many more questions must I ask until the answers start to **** their way in?

How many people went to my funeral?

How many people didn't want to go and went anyway? Someone give these people a medal.

How many people have I killed on accident?

Was it quick? Torturous? Which is more horrible?

Did it happen too fast to enjoy (or recognize) the end, or slow to the point life was no longer a desirable option? If it ends in this…

Have you ever planned a ****** in your headspace? Where did it happen? What did you use? What were they wearing? How quick? Why? No, not why. No. I don't care why. All good people have reasons.

All bad people have options.

His name purred on her lips; 
She loved the way it
Rolled around on her tongue,
Loosened her vocal chords 

Every time she said 
his name aloud,
It felt as though she were 
Becoming more and more
Well versed in him; 
His character,
His very being