You begged me to read you my poems aloud but my words came out slurred from the wetness of the back of your tongue and my rolling tears I told you I could never write a poem about you because I only write about things that break my heart but you've clawed your way out of me and now you're just another empty entry in my journal

my mind is a vassal collection of thoughts to my body where my skin can't remember the feeling of your hands but my mind has an acute sense of your words

My brain is aching:

I'm not crazy I'm not crazy I'm not crazy
I remember every syllable and vowel your rotund mouth spoke I remember everything I remember everything

You always asked me why i was choosing to write about the collective 'them' over you but you chose her over me inspite of everything your lips formed

"I love the way your skin smell oh god I love it" says your darting tongue, but does her skin smell the same as mine or were you just confused that night? Because one time you told me my scent was so familiar in the back of your nasal cavity, that there was no mistaking it was me

I never thought I could write you a line of poetry because you were too good to me but I've written you a book because you're the bane of my existence and my god I can hear my blood rushing through my chest as it tightens and my airways choke up like one of your asthma attacks, and you reach for your inhaler so you can breathe but for me nothing can dissipate this feeling

I think of you with her on repeat like an all night movie marathon of my worst nightmares and how my brain mixed up what it was like to care about another human and how to tear one apart with my tongue