I try to save them
but I only make it worse
drowning in the oil
that was meant to be a cure
I see them
disemboweled
and I can't help but feel
the smallest of lives
and you think I'm a fool
but I'm painfully aware
maybe my tears mean nothing
but to me
they mean the world
I wouldn't dare
to spare them on something that didn't matter
I wouldn't share them
with someone that didn't matter to me

I am weak
and easy
so willing to step into something more comfortable
so I'll only show you my curves
because you wouldn't like the edges
or maybe you would
but it's not a risk that I'm willing to take
I try to be satisfied
try to be satiated
and yet the hunger still pangs deep inside me
unwilling to compromise
yearning for something that can't be summarized

I'm looking for someone to replace you
because I miss you
even though I haven't really lost you
and I see you in every passing face
someone that I might be able to love
if I had the capacity
but it seems that I only know how to hurt
and I'm scared of feeling empty
so I claw and I cling
to something intangible
and for a moment I'm whole
for a moment I believe
and I could say I'm sorry a thousand times
and still be the one to leave

there are parts of you
on my bedside table
crumpled napkins
a negative test
I'm just a place
a comfort
a space
because it's easier
and it's safe
I'm filling the hole of someone you already know
you're filling the hole of something that I don't have the definition for

so maybe I am alluring
something in my eyes or in my lips
but I think it doesn't matter
because this mouth tells lies
without a second thought
and there's deceit in the eyes
that you find so pretty
and I'll never see what you see
we're looking in the same mirror
but I only see you
it's a fun house and I'm in the circus
full of tricks
but devoid of anything worth watching

I think I'd drive off this bridge
if the walls weren't made of concrete
they are sturdy and unmoving
the opposite of mine
my neon sign flashes through the night
all hours
O-P-E-N
over and over and over again
I tear myself apart
I leave a Y shaped incision on my chest reaching down to my stomach
and I am waiting for someone to stich it closed
and I'm growing impatient
waiting and waiting and waiting still

he's sat at a table by himself
100 degrees with a hot coffee in hand
he's waiting for someone and we're not allowed to know who
mindlessly, he thumbs through the pages in the book beside him
there's something in there that I long to learn
he says that there's still hope for us, unlike himself,
but he doesn't know that I see myself in him
for all he knows, he could be waiting for me to slide into the empty chair across from him
because it's over 100 degrees
and there's a hot coffee in my hands
and it's bitter and it burns,
but I drink it like I need it to survive