I want to know.
Tell me what she felt like under your hands,
How soft and beautiful her hair was
how she melted under your touch.
Tell me about the times she tangled her fingers in your hair,
how she made you shake with pleasure.
when her mouth tasted like strawberry rolling papers
and her cherry stem knotted tongue knew you better than I

you tell me,
how you thought you loved her
come clean a coward and admit you still do.
place holders are beautiful and exciting,
strange and adventurous and named Sam.
place holders are extremes of the dreamers you miss,
the green haired, permanently marked in every way
the ******* disgusting, used, begging for attention.

Don’t say it.
tell me she is nothing compared to my beauty
she is a waste. do not tear her down
to hold me to the standard I crave.
how will you speak of me once you've left?
how will my flaws be shaped into the pedestal
for your next obsession to be held upon
she will fall and shatter, her insides spilled over your floor.
you won’t have me to clean the stains.