i've let the empty hallow of trust scream with lies confronting the empty side of my bed but for some reason we are always in your bed. self worth isn't even real to me i loss that back in 9th grade, it starts when someone recognizes you when they tuck forgotten secrets behind your ears because they want to make you feel good for a moment they want you to feel special they what you to give them something special. and when you get off of your knees and wipe the leftovers of carpet duss out of the ridged burn in your legs the once charming soul drops you and you fall like a loose beaded friendship bracelet and the pinks yellows greens blue oranges and purples are scattered on the floor lying in salty stained puddles from last night that's when it leaves you. that's when self respect creeps it's way out of the back door and tosses the key into a forest of death. i've searched for it. but i can't find it i don't want to find it shouldn't i want to find it. when hands caress your scalp and lips whisper i love you more and phones buzz filled with emoticon script and it's not from you. you walk out the back door. you leave it open and tear down doors of time.  picking up dewy leaves hoping that there shine is really the silver key to green door of apartment 16. i'm ready to find my self worth. i'm ready to pull the lump out of my throat and kiss this bruise goodnight i'm ready to dive into my poetry the way you dived into me like a four course meal. there will be no forks at this party, no napkins to wipe the leftovers off your lips, no drink to wash away the taste of emptiness. you need to feel it you need to know what it's like to sit at the diner on main street alone and drink two mugs of hot chocolate while checking find my friends. no i'm not crazy but you've given me ever right to be. i've buried myself in you. i gave you days that i cannot take back i gave you time that cannot be reset  i gave you red lipped kisses that cannot be unstained, i gave you my poetry, your new wrestling shoes valued at the price of $180, i gave you my nights and i gave you my goodmornings. all i did was give and you kept taking and didn't even realize i was giving. it didn't take me long to notice but i stayed **** it i stayed because you and me were supposed to be something we are supposed to go places and the only place i see myself going is to the psychiatric because the pill bottle keeps rattling in my hands and i'm finally strong enough to pop the lid off. i'm strong enough to let 57 capsules slide down my pink tough in strong enough to swallow the pain and once i swallow there will be no more pain. there will be no more lonely dinner visits, no poetry, no wrestling shoes, no goodmorning texts, no more chattering teeth, no studering knee claps, no clanking of silver forks, no paper cuts from clean napkins  because i've lossed everything. i can't give no more. and you can't take nothing from me except the wooden chair who's legs dig in to the green grass where my casket lies.