isn't it awful when you are hurt and disappointed so often, you start to say,
"I'm used to it"

*n.e.w

THIS IS NOT A LOVE POEM
THIS IS A POEM ABOUT HOW YOU RUINED ME
THIS IS A POEM ABOUT HOW YOU SET ME ON FIRE, ABOUT HOW YOU TRIED TO EXTINGUISH EVERY LAST PART OF ME THAT YOU EVER TOUCHED---THIS
THIS IS A POEM ABOUT HOW YOU MADE ME FEE LIKE I DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO MISS AND THIS BABY, IS A POEM ABOUT HOW I DIED IN YOUR ARMS AND YOU DROPPED ME IN ACID
THIS IS A POEM ABOUT HOW YOU TEMPTED ME WITH WORDS ABOUT LIFE AND SMILES (AND MAYBE HAPPINESS, REMEMBER WHEN YOU PROMISED ME HAPPINESS)
BUT MOST OF ALL, THIS IS A POEM ABOUT ME AND SEVENTY-THREE MESSAGES I STILL HATE YOU FOR NOT REPLYING TOO EVEN THOUGH I NEVER ACTUALLY SENT THEM

you are a walking catastrophe

death in its most beautiful form---you

are a time-bomb,

those things you call eyes red and blue wires and when you come close enough

i can hear it ticking at the back of your throat

two years ago you smiled at me (tick-tock-tick-tock, baby)

and you kissed my hand; said "darling---

---you taste like you need me"

and i said maybe but i meant yes and now i wish i had meant no

and now you are nothing but a countdown to self-destruction

the first word you said to me---darling

made me a ******* part of you

steal the pause that stops me from bleeding all over your poetry
i am a misplaced smiley face at the end of a horrible message, he
is the sun, his eyes--
(eyefuck me with your deepest brown, autumn-eyed boy)
--he is all.
he is a lunar eclipse and i the ******* who stared unprotected anyway because **** me
if i was going to be blind i'd prefer to be blinded by him
if i was going to get hurt i'd prefer to get hurt by him

my third kiss was with a boy
his eyes were the colour of five suicide attempts and a dead father
and his lips tasted like he had been hurt twenty-seven times too many
he told me he loved me after five months of being together
his lips tasted different after it
i never said it back

(I wrote you
the same **** love letter over
and over
and over again
and I will keep
writing it)
(until one of us understands)

i said i'm sorry i said i wanted to come home i said i loved you the world is so ****** up why the **** did i leave you why in hell did i make you leave why did we paint the kitchen wall yellow it looks horrible. **** this **** this all. baby i want you back--i love you; i love the way you smell like fire, i love the way you used to look at me when you thought i wasn't looking at you (i am always looking at you); darling i love you like i loved the way my mother would watch my father come home from the gym all sweaty and gross and would tell him she'd still choose him over brad pitt even if he looked and smelled like this all the time, and i love you more than my dad loved my mother every time she told him that and **** sweetheart--****** ******* hell i do not know why i didn't look at you more often or why i didn't bring you breakfast in bed or why i smiled at that boy at the subway station two days ago (maybe because he had your eyes) and i smoked hundred-and-seventy-two cigarettes since you left even though i quit two years ago and i spent all my money on things i'd never let you buy because "they were useless" and ****, sweetheart, i miss you and i don't know why i didn't appreciate the way you sung under the shower (very out of tune) because every morning i wait for you to start singing that ******* jason mraz song (i'm yours) before i realise you're not going to ******* sing it because you're not ******* here and you're not ******* mine (i'm still yours).

I miss hearing you excitedly explain your dreams about Bill Murray saving your life
I miss hearing you explain why you never take Advil
I miss hearing your voice slur "what" and "hmm" together in a way only you could,

asking a question and simultaneously thinking about it too.

I miss telling you about why my mom takes the scissors out of my room.
I miss telling you "sorry i called last night" when i got drunk and you
weren't around,

(even though that never really stopped)

I miss my heart forgetting how to work every time we were together,
like morse code through my body pounding the scaredest possible "wow"

I miss you telling me "You're the worst" with a cocky smile.
I miss lying under the stars with you,
just looking while our friends made out beside us,
my neck uncomfortably on your arm because i was too shy to lie on your chest.

I miss sitting on your lap and worrying I would crush you,
and you reassuring me out of pride that I wouldn't,
that I couldn't.

I miss that day when we were drunk in you're best friends bed,
I was too scarred to kiss you so I just giggled,
and too drunk to remember how it eventually happened

I miss you making me feel small and beautiful and wanted.
I miss you making me feel big in a different way than my height ever could.