He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He emptied the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lighted
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried

I know what it is like to feel passion;
the way my skin tingles at your touch
Leaving me breathless and wanting more.
The two of us entangled in the darkness.
your blinds drawing shadows across my figure
As your fingers gently graze my cheek.
you penetrate my soul with your own
and I feel so close to you it hurts.

I know what it is like to love another;
denounce your whole being unto him and trust
Him with the power to destroy your essence.
He will never know what he has done to me.
He will never know the power he has over me.
He will never know the passion I have for him now.

I know what it is like to be in love; for
I am captivated by your eyes,
by the upturned corners of your mouth
and most simply by the feeling I get around you.

There is a boy
That I was
Absolutely enamored with
Awhile ago

I think part of what
Built up my
Obsession
Was our metaphors

“You’re so strong
Yet gentle;
So fierce but tender;
You’re nearly a lion”

“I can’t even stand how
Gorgeous you are
How you seem to know it all
My lovely, lovely Athena”

But the worst of all
What literally
Kept me up at night
Didn’t become a metaphor until today

We had a mutual love
Not of a typical interest
No; you see we were
Moon fanatics

He loved the moon
I loved the moon
And I have realized that I
Was ‘moony eyed’ over him

I do not want you to
Enjoy my poetry
I want it to hurt you
My unbridled teenage rage
And angst
Don’t you dare smile
Or laugh at the times that I
Am suffering through
I want my words to sting your eyes
Till tears burn in the corners
Making your vision a foggy
******* mess so you can see nothing else
You do not know anything of
What I am going through
Do not try to empathize or relate
To these bruising words
Let them hurt you, maim you
If you want to help me
Let me hurt you
Poetically

(I mean it Ma,
Click back now
I’d rather not scar you
Or cost us even more money
On therapy)**

The first time I had ***
I felt horribly guilty afterwards
I can only guess as to why

Maybe it was because I was the ‘boy’
Of the circumstance
The one thrusting and holding her up

The one that didn’t get to ***
The first go around
The one to wash their fingers clean in the aftermath

While the ‘girl’ wiped up her nether regions
Put her pants back on
And remained in an ‘aftersex’ glow

Maybe it was because I was the ‘boy’
Of the circumstance
That I was the one that ‘took’ something

But whatever the reason
Is irrelevant because within days
This guilt faded

As did any taste of regret
Vaguely reminiscent of the
Taste of her ***

And replacing said guilt
Was love; strong and (now) poignant
Beyond my years

And she is gone; literally so,

Thus replacing said love
Was pain; strong and poignant
Beyond my years

Replacing said pain
Was another type
Quite common of my age

A madly bruised hand
To be exact;
Courtesy of my teenage idiocy

Replacing my physical pain and idiocy
Was another girl
One that could never be ‘her’

I cannot kiss this girl
It’s all so different
All so ******* wrong

I can’t stand her braces
And the taste of sour milk
That is always marinating in her mouth

I can’t stand this girl
But it is not her fault
It’s, to mimic a cliché,

It’s me, not her
And I am, genuinely,
Sorry for her


But I am so, extremely, pathetically
More sorry
For myself

She caught in flames of
White hot, sporadic spouting
Misread teenage rage

They tell us to forget
Our past flames
And our broken romances

But I do not want to forget
Because I can still remember
So, so, so many things

I can remember
That time you said
That I just made you “so, so so happy”

That you loved the way
I lit up into a goofy smile
When you did certain things

That the thought of us
Together into even adulthood
Was a lovely thought

They tell us to forget
Our past flames
And our broken romances

But why, why why
Why would I ******* want to forget
Those things, how you made me feel

Even if you don’t
Feel them or say them
Anymore

The thought of those times
Makes me so so so
**** happy

And yet the thought of those times
Makes me so so so
**** sad

Oh
Maybe that’s why
Well then

Just call me
Ms. Self Destructive
Then