I'm curled up to a pillow
wishing it was you
Grasping my own hand
wishing it was yours
tears streaming down my face
****, I miss you.
I have a big bag of chocolate kisses,
but they don't compare to yours.
I can't sleep at all without you.
I'm lost in empty thoughts
and broken promises
wishing you were here
wishing you were still just a daydream away
wishing the thought of you was my simple comfort
but it's not enough
I'm downing coffee like it's water
trying to **** the fatigue
need to go to a doctor,
and you begged me to
but I still haven't yet

I really like the rain,
classical music too
It's storming tonight,
and it's 12:36 a.m
I have school tomorrow,
but I don't really care.
Maybe won't go,
maybe will hold my own hand
Who knows?
I really like the rain,
it's a sense of peace.
Running down pale, sullen faces,
that never move,
that never breathe.
I really like the rain,
I don't know why I do.

"It's okay baby, it's going to be okay." His tall frame held my fragile, petite one.

"No, it's not. You're going to leave too." Little did I know in that moment... he really would.

"I love you." In that moment, I froze.

"I hate you." In that moment, I shattered.

"You lied to me." I didn't lie.

"You never meant anything to me." In that moment, I was gone beyond repair.

"I care." In that moment, I was doubtful.

"I'm sorry." In this moment, I was truthful.

"Please don't take those pills again." In this moment, I wasn't worried.

"Are you okay?" An question that the answer will never grace my lips.

I'm breaking, but I'm not broken. Not yet.

I need you,*
but you needed to leave me
I had you,
but you never had me
I love you,
but did you ever love me?
I saw you,
tears, sadness, pain
laughter, happiness, gain
but did you notice?
I noticed you,
and your green eyes
opened wide,
susceptible.
I miss you,
but you don't miss me,
you have a friend of mine
that used to mean the world to me
now you're both gone
and I'm lonely
and alone, I suppose.
Soul torn open,
words dripping out,
eyes closed tightly,
tears slipping now.

I run my hand along the traces of him.
I feel the blood rush through my skin.

I grip my shoulder where your head once rested.
I tear at my soul just to feel connected.

I feel the rage I should have felt eleven months ago,
I feel the desire I ought to forgo.

You were the best of all the others,
Their traces remain, but they weren't even lovers.

And neither were we, almost but not quite,
But you were the closest I have been to the shame free light.

I want to be clean of the stain he left,
I want to be clean of the desire I regret.

But as I look at this mark that you left on me,
I am not so sure I want to be free.

Please.
Pleading.
Promising.
Pain.
******.

Painting a broken picture
on shattered glass
Playing games
with a fragile heart
broken yet, promised more
Picnicking alone in the dark
Pushed off a platform with rough paws
Passionate sins
picked up a pen,
and told the world what she says