Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

Has my existence meant nothing to you?
did you lie to me when you spoke of the electricity that sparked as our lips first touched under the stars?
because now all I see is you,
with her.
so quickly, the "love" you had disappeared?
I hope you're reminded of my erupting breathe tickling your skin,
my tongue that performed a dance with yours,
and my soul that gave it all to you.
remember that, remember me,
when you decide to caress someone else's soul.

I fell in love with the dark.
I found comfort in the sorrow-filled shadows .
selfish, I know.
but it is all I know.
you used to help me find beams of light,
but now there are no traces of hope remaining.
I have been consumed whole.

as I sat and watched the sun set over the trees,
I couldn't help but notice
the last beams of light.
they danced patterns along my skin,
creating a warm touch that seemed to
caress
the cells underneath.

why is it that every time I feel my strongest,
you somehow evolve slowly back into my membrane.
memories.
they overflow my cerebrum.
and then
my tears run red
and drip down my fingertips.
I hate how you do this to me.
weak, vulnerable, guilty.
I am numb when I think of your voice.
I quiver with fear of tomorrow,
how am I supposed to move forward
if my mind continues to dwell on the past?