I can’t seem to get you out.
Every memory, touch, and place
stains onto me—
a thin layer of you
I can’t peel off.
I see you in every cell,
And I can’t seem to get you
out of my skin.
You’re glued on.
I’m rubbing friction,
Hoping you’ll shred apart,
but just like adhesive glue,
with time
you solidify onto me.
At first, I thought that meant love—
that this ache was proof of _something_
That if I just kept rubbing,
this pain would mean something
But now I smell the burn of it,
the friction I made to forget you
set me on fire.
I look into your eyes to plead,
but all I see is pure adoration.
and I melt.
I’m hypnotized.
Those big round eyes,
engulf me.
I thought I saw love
in those brown eyes.
I realized too late
that it was a reflection of mine
and I can't seem to get me out
My wanting.
My love, mirrored back
so perfectly
I believed it was yours.
Now every time I try to get you out,
I find another piece of me
stuck there too.
To burn you off of me,
I burn a piece of me too.
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 8:58 PM UTC
I can’t seem to get you out.
Every memory, touch, and place
stains onto me—
a thin layer of you
I can’t peel off.
I see you in every cell,
And I can’t seem to get you
out of my skin.
You’re glued on.
I’m rubbing friction,
Hoping you’ll shred apart,
but just like adhesive glue,
with time
you solidify onto me.
At first, I thought that meant love—
that this ache was proof of _something_
That if I just kept rubbing,
this pain would mean something
But now I smell the burn of it,
the friction I made to forget you
set me on fire.
I look into your eyes to plead,
but all I see is pure adoration.
and I melt.
I’m hypnotized.
Those big round eyes,
engulf me.
I thought I saw love
in those brown eyes.
I realized too late
that it was a reflection of mine
and I can't seem to get me out
My wanting.
My love, mirrored back
so perfectly
I believed it was yours.
Now every time I try to get you out,
I find another piece of me
stuck there too.
To burn you off of me,
I burn a piece of me too.
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