Dec 2014
As I write this great poem about how you broke my sick heart I have to stop and look to the ceiling so tears won’t overflow because it’s Christmas and today a year ago you asked me to be yours. I guess I didn’t realize that this was all a prank I was falling for when you made me feel invincible against everything, except you, and that’s probably why I still hurt over you 2 months later. I should have known that you weren’t someone who would stay because you didn’t stay up till 12 with me and you didn’t watch my favourite christmas movie and that’s always going to get to me.
you filled me with ***** that burned the back of my throat and bad thoughts that haunted my mind and made my entire ******* body shake. I carved my fingernails into my thighs because all I wanted was out, ****** I still want out, but when you saw the marks cut into me you held my hand and we walked to the convenience store at the end of my street where you pointed out the sharp razors to use instead. I can look on the skin covering my bones and still point out each scar where you thought I wasn’t capable of destroying myself more than you did. you left me convulsing over a toilet bowl because the way you treated me made me sick to my stomach and all I wanted to do was shrink and shrink and shrink until there was nothing left of me because you never knew how to love me, all you ever knew was how to destroy the already cracked pieces of me until I was left brittle, bruised, and bleeding. now all I do is speak in metaphors about you but *******, you do not ******* deserve my poetry. I was only second choices and a maybe to you, I was never put first and I was never a yes and I wasn’t even a no. I still know your birthday and your middle name and your sisters due date and I remember the way my name rolled off your tongue and I know your scars and I know why you never wanted to stay home and you made yourself the ******* victim when I was the one you were killing. did you even mean a word you ever said or were they mistakes that you scribbled all over the walls that you easily erased but I could never erase it in my mind because it's there, all of your empty promises and words.
My chest aches and the doctors say that I have some sort of heart disease but I know its from loving you twice as much as you ever loved me. I’ve been drinking more than I’d like to admit, but drinking makes my head spin and I wake up to not remembering a thing and that’s exactly what it’s like to love you.
But I can’t forget you, I’ll never forget you, I can echo words you’ve said and I’ve always been told to hold onto the ones who love me with their words rather than their hands. But I question if you ever loved me because you made me give pieces of myself to you that never existed and I told you I loved you and you said it back but why the **** didn’t you want to be with me? You tore me down and yet I was stupid enough to stay and expect you to rebuild me and I let you see how damaged I was and you took advantage of me and ****** around with my feelings more and there were more blades and pills and drugs and drunk kisses and you made me want to die.
I’ve started peeling the skin off of my fingertips since you started finding happiness in others because you were home for 9 months and now I’m numb. No one has any interest in me, I am a walking paradox, always laughing like I believe that I have self worth when I really only see myself as self rot. And even though I want someone else, I’m sure she doesn’t want me, you’ve made me believe that. My chestnut eyes are as dull as grey clouds and memories of us are lodged between my ribs where they won’t ******* leave no matter how hard my body shakes when I think about you.
I thought being with you would cure the way my sadness creeps into my eyes and blurs my vision, but really it was letting you see the worst parts of me and grabbing onto your hands until they broke because I held onto you too tightly. I thought if I held onto you tight enough that you wouldn’t leave but too quickly I couldn’t even grasp your shadow because you were too busy with other girls ******* on your neck and leaving love bites and I was left with a bottle of tequila and your stupid promise to stay. I thought if I screamed loud enough about the pain you put me through that someone would hear, but you grabbed me by my throat before I could make a sound and told me that you’d fix me, but one night in your sleep you whispered that I was incurable. I thought if I could memorize each freckle and line on your body so that I could trace them in my sleep that you’d never leave, but now you’re tracing other girl’s bare body’s and I’m sketching anothers too.
Afterwards I was taught what love was with other peoples bodies instead of words and I started to see my bones and I couldn’t stop taking pills and something broke inside me like glass shattering and I woke up in the hospital from a heart attack because of my **** heart disease.
I still have heart problems and I still think of you a lot. I would like to say I’ve moved on too and I have. I’ve found love in another person but unfortunately she doesn’t see any love in me, and that’s okay because neither do I.
I would like to thank you honestly, my dad and you are the people who have hurt me the most and I don’t know why I let both of you take turns stabbing me until I bled dry, but now I’m a walking skeleton because I am so **** empty. I can’t find happiness no matter how hard I look and I don’t know why my body feels so heavy at 17, like I’ve already lived through 3 lives, but that’s life. It’s crazy that you inspire poetry when you’re the opposite of love and I honestly don’t care if you read this and you’re hurt because you hurt me for 9 months and I’m still hurting and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.
Merry Christmas.
you filled me with ***** that burned the back of my throat and bad thoughts that haunted my mind and made my entire ******* body shake. I carved my fingernails into my thighs because all I wanted was out, ****** I still want out, but when you saw the marks cut into me you held my hand and we walked to the convenience store at the end of my street where you pointed out the sharp razors to use instead. I can look on the skin covering my bones and still point out each scar where you thought I wasn’t capable of destroying myself more than you did. you left me convulsing over a toilet bowl because the way you treated me made me sick to my stomach and all I wanted to do was shrink and shrink and shrink until there was nothing left of me because you never knew how to love me, all you ever knew was how to destroy the already cracked pieces of me until I was left brittle, bruised, and bleeding. now all I do is speak in metaphors about you but *******, you do not ******* deserve my poetry. I was only second choices and a maybe to you, I was never put first and I was never a yes and I wasn’t even a no. I still know your birthday and your middle name and your sisters due date and I remember the way my name rolled off your tongue and I know your scars and I know why you never wanted to stay home and you made yourself the ******* victim when I was the one you were killing. did you even mean a word you ever said or were they mistakes that you scribbled all over the walls that you easily erased but I could never erase it in my mind because it's there, all of your empty promises and words.
My chest aches and the doctors say that I have some sort of heart disease but I know its from loving you twice as much as you ever loved me. I’ve been drinking more than I’d like to admit, but drinking makes my head spin and I wake up to not remembering a thing and that’s exactly what it’s like to love you.
But I can’t forget you, I’ll never forget you, I can echo words you’ve said and I’ve always been told to hold onto the ones who love me with their words rather than their hands. But I question if you ever loved me because you made me give pieces of myself to you that never existed and I told you I loved you and you said it back but why the **** didn’t you want to be with me? You tore me down and yet I was stupid enough to stay and expect you to rebuild me and I let you see how damaged I was and you took advantage of me and ****** around with my feelings more and there were more blades and pills and drugs and drunk kisses and you made me want to die.
I’ve started peeling the skin off of my fingertips since you started finding happiness in others because you were home for 9 months and now I’m numb. No one has any interest in me, I am a walking paradox, always laughing like I believe that I have self worth when I really only see myself as self rot. And even though I want someone else, I’m sure she doesn’t want me, you’ve made me believe that. My chestnut eyes are as dull as grey clouds and memories of us are lodged between my ribs where they won’t ******* leave no matter how hard my body shakes when I think about you.
I thought being with you would cure the way my sadness creeps into my eyes and blurs my vision, but really it was letting you see the worst parts of me and grabbing onto your hands until they broke because I held onto you too tightly. I thought if I held onto you tight enough that you wouldn’t leave but too quickly I couldn’t even grasp your shadow because you were too busy with other girls ******* on your neck and leaving love bites and I was left with a bottle of tequila and your stupid promise to stay. I thought if I screamed loud enough about the pain you put me through that someone would hear, but you grabbed me by my throat before I could make a sound and told me that you’d fix me, but one night in your sleep you whispered that I was incurable. I thought if I could memorize each freckle and line on your body so that I could trace them in my sleep that you’d never leave, but now you’re tracing other girl’s bare body’s and I’m sketching anothers too.
Afterwards I was taught what love was with other peoples bodies instead of words and I started to see my bones and I couldn’t stop taking pills and something broke inside me like glass shattering and I woke up in the hospital from a heart attack because of my **** heart disease.
I still have heart problems and I still think of you a lot. I would like to say I’ve moved on too and I have. I’ve found love in another person but unfortunately she doesn’t see any love in me, and that’s okay because neither do I.
I would like to thank you honestly, my dad and you are the people who have hurt me the most and I don’t know why I let both of you take turns stabbing me until I bled dry, but now I’m a walking skeleton because I am so **** empty. I can’t find happiness no matter how hard I look and I don’t know why my body feels so heavy at 17, like I’ve already lived through 3 lives, but that’s life. It’s crazy that you inspire poetry when you’re the opposite of love and I honestly don’t care if you read this and you’re hurt because you hurt me for 9 months and I’m still hurting and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.
Merry Christmas.
