i guess i miss playing with your fingers,
feeling your warm whisper on my neck
but never have i missed
the feelings of your slap on my back.
or the bruises on my arms, for that matter
and while we’re at it, i don’t miss being begged for ***
or photos that would have dissolved my purity
like when the sun slowly merges with the earth, and all that’s left is darkness.
although i miss
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I was the girl of your dreams, and you finally woke up
When you did, the thought of hurting me didn't even faze you
Your hand against my skin now leaving marks, not a ghost I would soon lay in bed and think about and smile.
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I hope the shame of what you did to me burns your oesophagus when your next girlfriend asks what happened with me, and I hope you tell the truth. I hope you tell her that you let me go, that you touched me in a way no man should touch his
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You carved your name into my skull with a nail and a hammer. I know this because whenever I think of you, my head hurts. Whenever I think of you, my throat closes up and my eyes start to burn. Then my vision gets blurry and all I can ask myself is why you did it.
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I really hope she can tell that when you lie you scratch the left side of your head and put your left hand on your right shoulder. I hope she can tell that the sides of your mouth twitch when you know with all of your heart you aren't telling the truth.