Why do I let you steal my sleep,
With tattooed memories of
Your eyes before you kissed me,
Or the way your breathing felt,
When my lips could feel
Your intendedly loud exhales
Against your throat?

You’ve stolen my will to dream.
I just pull at my hair,
And burn my arms
With streaks of red  
From fingernails scratching
Away my skin,
To appease the temptation,
To ignite my masochistic tendencies.

I am scattered as a vase,
Let from fingertips,
Whose will was promised strong,
And fidelity was faked.

I’m nothing but a train
Wailing the horns
With no brakes,
My memories of you are replaced with scorn,
Opposing my heart--
Too stubborn to be convinced
Of your lies.

I’m sputtering, with a loving
Heart that never predicted
This path to take.
I have nothing to say.
You had a lot of firsts in my book,
But never would I have thought
You’d be the first I erased.

Honesty was a trait I once admired
Within you, but now,
I wish your hypocrisy
Was hidden from the light;
The smoking gun you handed me, yourself,
I wish you kept it out of sight.
Why must I be forever scarred
Knowing the one I loved,
Shot me in the heart?

Why does despair hold me tighter,
Than your words or the touch of skin?
Fall witness to your impiety, pray,
And victimize the weight of your sin
And be forgiven.

For the grudge I hold might beg of me,
In my own impiety,
Onto my knees, praying, myself, that you won’t be,
But cursed are we who think,
Any control is given within clasping hands,
And narrow teeth;
Cursed are we,
Who speak
From the backseat,
On revenge’s itinerary.