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Sydney Spencer Jul 2018
i have a habit
of falling in love with my best friends
i think it’s my biggest mistake
Sydney Spencer Jan 2016
I have all these memories of you.
All these memories and I don't know where to put them down.
I have memories back before anything happened.
The way you were shorter than me until middle school.
The way you made my heart race.
I remember telling her about my heart not staying still.
And how a few weeks later you two held hands like my words meant nothing.
(have they ever meant anything)

I remember how good I felt when you laughed at something I said.
Or just at me in general.
I don't remember feeling bad at you making fun of me.
I just liked your attention.

I will never forget the way your feet felt
colliding with my shins in the hallway at school
your fist punching into my stomach.
Everyone saw.
Nobody acted.
I was fifteen.
I will never forget my mother's face when I showed her the bruises.
I couldn't hide them that time because I was limping.
It was like she had failed as a parent.
She had no idea how wrong she was.
(she was great she still is I don't tell her enough)

I remember how two years after that day you told me you loved me.
Will never forget how much of an idiot I was to believe you.
But you were the first, that I remember.
I would have done anything for you.
(sometimes I wake up thinking I still will it's been eight years this has to end)

I remember saying no the first time we slept together
Remember you whispering to me,
"she'll never find out"
"she means nothing to me"
"you know you'll like it"
"i love you i love you i love you"
And I blossomed like a flower the first day of spring
But that doesn't mean it wasn't ****.
I'll never forget the first time I thought that
I thought my lungs were falling out and I cried for hours
(I still don't know what it was but it makes me feel gross)

I remember how once we started dating
I assumed it would get better, I trusted you so much.
We were best friends, of course this was going to work.
I remember how my face stings after it's slapped.
I remember how your hands feel caressing my back when I'm sick.
I remember how your fingers felt pressed into my throat.
I remember the excuses.
"i bumped into something"
"it's not too warm for long sleeves"
"i'm just trying scarves for a look"
I was seventeen.

These are adult issues that no one should have to deal with
But I was
Too young
Too unprepared
Too gullible
Too scared
School doesn't teach you how to act when the abuse is suddenly
knocking at your door.
When you know you need to leave
But you're so into only him it's like you have no one else.
(he's the only person I talked to for two years)

It's been eight years
I still remember everything.
I need to put these memories down.
On a shelf, in a junk door behind the inkless pens.
In the ******* trash.
I feel like I'm not growing because these memories are
Clawing at my central nervous system
freezing me any time someone is too close.
I wish I didn't remember you.
Sydney Spencer Mar 2015
I couldn't sleep last night because the full moon light was shimmering in through my window and it managed to remind me of the way your eyes lit up when you talked to me about Say Anything, like how your smile grew when I said "Walk Through Hell" was one of my favorite songs, of the way you threw a glance at me as we started the chorus together.

I couldn't sleep last night because you were dancing on my eyelids, because you were wrapping yourself around my rib cage and settling beside my lungs, because you kissed my heart and wished it goodnight.

I couldn't sleep last night because the full moon light was shimmering in through my window and I'm only comfortable in the darkness.
I'm not going to sleep tonight because I can still feel your hands on the small of my back
Sydney Spencer Jan 2015
I've never heard my name sound quite as perfect

As it did when you let it curl off your tongue and slip past your lips last night

I've missed you.
You rarely actually call me by name I'm surprised you remember it most days.
Sydney Spencer Dec 2014
How am I supposed to start a new year without you
Sydney Spencer Sep 2014
Mad
I'm not really mad
That a year ago I realized I was in love with you.

I'm not really mad
That you look at me like I light up the world.

I'm not really mad
That I can't even have you because she got there first.

I'm not really mad
That this whole situation is happening to the both of us.

No I'm not mad about any of that.

What I'm mad about
Is that you got past all my walls
and sliced into my chest
(really it was waiting for you to come inside)
and you cracked open my third rib
(with the jokes that you made and the way you smile at me)
and you took your thumb nail
(the one that plucks the guitar strings to my favorite songs)
and you etched your name so small on my heart
(I'll never forget it you really didn't have to do that)
and replaced the rib with so much care
(but with the smallest piece of tape you could find)
That I didn't even realize you had done anything
Until one day I looked in the mirror
And every word you've said was written on me
With hearts and flowers and all those lame things that we laugh at associated with love
And I couldn't wash them off in the shower no matter how hard I scrubbed.
(it's been a year and I'm starting to worry I'll never be clean again)

So I'm not mad that life has led me in this direction.

I'm just mad that it took us so long.
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