I just dreamt that you never loved me. That I was engulfed in things I could not stand, and for the life of me, I found them unpleasant.

You told me that the way I had acted when I was attacked had turned you off. You wrote it on a note with recipes. I could not stand you in that moment because it wasn't you. You were drunk. I know how this goes.

All of this is a dream. Everything I had just imagined was a facade. My soul is distraught though, by my recreation of our friendship. I know I am hard to love. I know I'm not as beautiful as that girl you talked to yesterday. I know.  

I can't carry these feelings I have for you anymore. They are a burdon in themselves because I can not have you, and I really would love you.

And in my days of loving you I have come to know more about myself than I thought possible. I am a never ending maze of emotion and gratitude for the time you took to show me that even wilted flowers bloom once more. Your patience withstood lifetimes of self loathing and internalized harm that took me to hell, where I could not see what life meant. I am renewed with a vigor to love someone as wholly as you have shown me. Because when I thought I was empty, you took yourself to fill me up without regard for what you would be left with.

"I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone."

I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I don't like you.
I couldn't stand to hurt that much ever again. When the sun shines from your eyes, and I wither at your touch. I am not the one who gets your love. I'm not the one graced with your insecurities. I will never see the future swell from your lungs. You will never show up at my door unannounced, at the right time. You will never hold me as I fall prey to my loneliness, or the secrets that lie beneath my pallid flesh. There are no songs written about me in your head. I am not the sunrise or sunset. Your world revolves away from me and I am left within myself. I will not find you in this lifetime. I will not wake next to you years from now and look back at our happenstance meeting. I do not get you. I do not get to know your smell, or the way you sleep. I do not get to know you on holidays. I won't take pictures with your family. I do not get to make you smile or know your sadness when the weather hits you. I do not get you. I have never felt more sorry for myself.

Sleet creates a maelstrom outside my window as I hemorrhage in my sleep. A side effect of numbing myself. Addicted to feeling dead inside, addicted to not remembering the night before, or the day after. My skin bruises to the touch of the ones around me. Morose, jaded, breathing. You can't paint everything black. There's blood under my finger nails. I'm not coming back.

I'm not sure loneliness is what I feel inside of me, but on the days in which I stare too long, something inside of me aches to get out.  I'm spiraling out of control. I feel like I'm fading away, becoming invisable. How much longer till I take a bath and never come out. Can one person hold all this inside of them without it spilling over, drowning in it even.

I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, this is all *******.

Cavernous is the hole I feel inside me when I peel myself out of body. I can't remember who I am. Who I was before I was consumed by the bitter, jaded ooze I inhale.

Consumed by an eternal tar that's filled me so full it seeps out of my pores. Toxic are the steps I take away from all my friends near the edge. I can't make up my mind.

Floating aimlessly through time, surrounded by the glimmer of everyone who knows how to cope with the death in their head. Broken records convey more emotion that I could ever muster. I don't even know who I am.

I dreamt about you all day while I slept. You haunted me through all my memories, even the ones you were never apart of. You loved me infinitely in one, the sun shone bright in your eyes when you told me that you loved me. When you kissed my head and promised to see me soon, because you could only be away from me for so long. I could feel love radiate from your body, and I basked in it. I had never felt so emotionally whole.

I woke up. I feel sick, I feel fragile. It was so unfair. You will never love me. I know that more than anything else I have ever known. On the verge of nausea since I've been awake, I can only see you everywhere I go. I am so very frustrated with myself for loving you so deeply without meaning to. Distraught over knowing you, will you forget who I am and how my skin feels against yours? I pale at the thought that you will find someone who makes a better pillow than I did for you when you slept, or to see your face when you wake to see if I'm still with you.  I feel like I'm falling apart, I'm not even me anymore. You're eating me away from the inside like the maggots. I'm becoming hollow, and I only have myself to blame.

I was sixteen, and I would disappear down the coast. Where cigarettes were more important than food. A few days was actually a lifetime.

My heart aches for you so wholly that I feel I might burst into an explosion of star dust. Like a vampire who steps into the sun, you consume my entire being and I can't explain myself to you. I am done with being overtaken by nausea when I hear your name slip through other people's mouths.  

I am no longer the one whispering your good graces to the ears of other people, or feeling your smile against my thighs as you sleep on the couch. Fit into me.  I am no longer catching you look at me when you wake. You making excuses for me to stay so you could kiss me when you rolled over in bed.

Heartbroken is too strong of a word for me, but I felt so complete with you. I felt sober with you.