You called me sugar
but sweetened your tea with **honey

I still don't know if
I've ever "made love"
but if I have
the first time
was definitely with you:

******* on the ***** carpet floor
of your best friend's house
in Tallahassee. we knocked
tattoos against the coffee table
both our knees red
rugburnt from scooting the length
of the living room + hallway.

we moaned into each other's mouths
as our friends passed out drunk
not seven feet away
we tried three positions & your
body told me the last one was your
favorite so we bumped bellies
pulled each other's hair
your chest on my chest
your shoulder blades
drenched in moonlight
small in my careful hands
stars camped in our eyes
you bit my
lip too hard.

I'll never forget the wet way you kissed
my salty forehead as we
climbed connected onto
the couch, but the most vivid
memories from that night
are your legs
still quivering but clenched
ankle locked together at the
***** of my back, & falling asleep
inside you because it
felt like the right thing to do.

I thought to myself why we couldn't be friends
It isn't because you can't be friends with an ex
It isn't because I still love you or you still love me
It isn't because we haven't moved on
It isn't because we're both depressed and think we are both better off
It isn't because I miss you, my best friend
It isn't because the memories flood back every now and then
It isn't because you want to leave reality
It isn't because I have too much to worry about besides the ghost of you
It's simply because sometimes when people grow, they grow apart
But we are both withering and worse off
So tell me again, why can't we be friends?

I feel separated from everything that is happening
Like the audience attending a musical, watching
Not involved, yet knowing everything that's happening
It's the strangest feeling of being unconnected,
And I have to say, I'd rather be a performer than the audience

i miss you.
i miss myself too.

for when I hug you
it hurts me to death

knowing these arms
are already chained
to someone else.

It's been one month since my last letter.
This month, I did not think of you, I really succeeded that.
Sure there is still certain things which reminds me of you, some songs, but I succeeded.

Your name leave no more that bitter taste in my mouth,
It doesn't play in repeat for hours in my head,
Your voice is a distant memory and your perfume is forgotten.
I still think of you sometimes, but it's different now, i am cured of you.

One day you will understand that I was made for you,
That I would have made you happy,
I would have give you everything of me, even  my soul.

One day you will regret,
You will think of it, vaguely, that it would have work, if you tried.