Somedays i think you're the person who locked me in this hole and left with the key. Somedays I long for you. But most days I hate you. You walk through life with an arrogant grin. Breaking hearts as you mask your own selfless pain with the pleasures you take. But I hope you look back at this broken shattered heart. I hope you feel guilty for all the things you did. But maybe you hate me and look back at me like you look back at the road you just traveled still keeping an arrogant grin as you take on life. Hell, at least you're thinking of me.

Most nights I pretend to be okay. Often like the nights you pretended you loved me. But I'm doubtful your heart aches like mine. I'm not quite something that matters. I'm not broken just merely incomplete. I tell myself you fall apart to only fall together someday. These scars will fade and make constellations that the right person will know to look for. But ****. It's not right to romanticize those who hurt us. I'm sorry I run from the smallest indication people might care. But there's no anger here. Only sadness. Broken things that can't be fixed. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm more fragile than endearing and maybe I should've warned you. But I'm stuck in this nightmare. And often I have to check to make sure my heart is still beating.

Your intentions, melt me. But your actions, they burn me. Hopelessly, listlessly, achingly, debating the ifs ands, or buts. They all wear me out. My soul lusts for you as much as my lips. And my heart craves these deep desires.  To write poems on your skin with my fingers. To study the map of your scars and hear your stories told by your veins. You are forbidden and you are difficult. Selfish. Enthralling and unattainable. A puzzle i'd spend everyday to uncover the beautiful image hidden within the scattered pieces. Because within you I find more than anyone else ever could. And I wouldn't stop chasing you even if my lungs reached maximum capacity.

i am a mess of broken strings and branching neurons that will never quite reach their intended purpose and i am a creature that loves like arsenic. i am curling flames that make their way into your heart and nest there with no intention of ever leaving and this is my problem; i never know when it is time to take my inhibitions and my shortcomings and get on a bus that will drop me off in your left ventricle, where i can smooth out my broken pieces and start again. i am a bird who can't fly and relies on others to take me up into the clouds because my potential overshadows my reality and i have never learned to escape mediocrity as it chases me onto a dead end street. i am all parts and no wholes; i am all fragments that won't fit together and no amount of glue will repair my shattered sense of self or my crippled brain that loves so intensely it drives people away. i am a line so long i can't even begin to look for the front so i settle into waiting and let it become my personality, let it become my everything because here is now and there is then and the timeline of my life has never been a straight line; it has always been a zigzag of humanity that folds back in on itself despite my mumbled protests. i am not a phoenix - when i have burnt to ashes i do not wish to be reborn because i have always been a loaded pistol and embers don't mix with gunpowder (i know this because i have been an inevitable explosion since the day my mother first held me in her arms). i am a surplus of pride and shame in the form of hidden tears and crumpled papers but i have always been older than my years and the anomaly in me has never been extinguished; maybe this is why when i look down at myself, i see only marks and freckles and imperfections instead of the blinding glare of my rattled soul. i am Hiroshima with its enormous power (too great to be contained) that dissolves my judgment into fine white powder and scatters it over dead soil like a twisted mosaic on a mottled canvas. i am poison - you will know this part of me if you reach past my organs into my core where my fears rest, if you get too close for comfort and my electric fence of a heart shocks you back. i am a being that never learned to love the right way so i love all the wrong ways and if you get caught in my crosshairs from where i stand above, you should run. i never learned how to escape myself, or my arsenic heart, and this is my problem. this will always be my problem.

I hope you wake up every morning and you smile and you love life. I hope you're excited to start a brand new day. And I hope you take her to the same places we used to go to. And I hope she laughs and you think of me as she's sipping on my favorite drink. I hope you miss the sweater you didn't even want returned and you look for it and find nothing but me. I hope you realize the more you think of her the more I die inside. And I hope you start to die inside too,  not being able to escape the memory of me.  And I hope you think of me when she tosses and turns in her sleep because you used to watch me and tell me that was annoying but something you want by you every night. And maybe when she wakes up and looks at you with sleepy eyes you will see me in the dim twinkle in the sunlight because maybe you're just as miserable as I am. But we all know that's not true.