Flattered by their gaze
Fueled by a drunken summer daze
You think yourself a wonder
For young men to ponder

You believe yourself unique
The first to ever catch his eye
Love at first sight
More in love with the idea of his adoration than him
He more in love with the thrill of the chase than the catch

The newness of your union fades
And his eyes begin to graze
The adoration that fueled you
Now consumes you

Desperate to be worshiped
You arm your warship
Prepared to take your self-esteem back
He never had it

You try to leave on a whim,
To chase another him
But you’ve become a piece of his pride
A status symbol


He screams in your face
Tells you that you’re nothing
His eyes filled with craze
He pushes you

At the bottom of the stairs
You can still feel the stares
Of the boys you thought adored you
Boys who could have loved you

Were you always meant to be a trophy?
To increase the ego of any man that owned you
He rushes down, to see what he has done.
You feel more shame than pain.

You and he
For the first time see
The flaw in your union
It was merely an illusion

You thought obsession
Desperation
And lust
Were a must

Foolish Girl

I think the moments I feel most alone are within the first few hours of his departure.
The house filthy scattered with the whirlwind of our being
The smell of him lingering in my bed
The feeling of his lips still on mine
The memory of his laugh bouncing around my mind
Those moments directly after feeling whole
After feeling the intensity of his presence
The silence is almost deafening
The vast emptiness left in his wake rocks me to my core

Silence
I'm so desperate to fill the room with noise
To destroy the silence
Music
TV
Running water
Anything to not feel the crushing weight of it all
Nothing touches it
Nothing cracks
I'm alone

I remember thinking it made you weak to regard someone the way I do him
To be surrounded by people and yet feel alone without him
To desperately count the day until I see him again
The way I pathetically wait on his response to inane questions
Wondering if his soul aches for mine, if he feels the way I do
In the end it doesn't matter if he feels exactly the way I do
I am whole with him

Love always presents with uncertainty, fragility, and a touch of modesty
The knowledge of fleeting love keeps you uncertain
The ending of other relationships reminds you of its fragility
The urge to protect your pride keeps you modest, afraid to boast
This is not love, its more
It is being complete
It is friendship
It is trust
It is us.