there's an angry voice inside of me
i need to write down
and let loose.
but it only comes out as a whisper.

i use the things i won't do,
like death,
to inspire me for things i try to do,
like being alive.

I'll pretend that when you lean in,
that you've never kissed anyone
the same way you kiss me.

And my heart breaks
when you struggle to remember the names
of all your past lovers
(You call them all mistakes)
because I know,
someday,
you'll do the same to me.

And I see the parts of you
that are broken,
but promise me that
you'll remember my name
and you'll never see me as
another one of
your mistakes.

And it's okay
if you flinch
every time he moves
his hands too fast

because in another time,
you were just
defending yourself,
and that is all right.

And it's okay
if you still skip class
every once
in awhile

because in another time,
that was the only time
you could catch a break,
and that is all right.

And it's okay
If you stay up all night-
making friends with
your bedroom walls

because in another time,
sleeping meant dreaming,
and all you really wanted
was reality,
and that is all right.

It will all be okay
in the end.

I heard you started smoking,
and I hope
it makes you realize
what you did to me
when you become so addicted
to something that kills you.

And when you finally
find the strength to stop,
years from now,
you'll still find yourself
missing it.

I hope you think of me when
the smoke escapes
your lungs.

-k.w// cigarettes & metaphors