I.

First it’s a look shared through the glass
A window between us

The feeling that passes through me
When I watch him explain the impossible
And make it look easy

Then it’s the wondering that overtakes me
Behind the counter where I’ve lost myself in thought
Surrounded by books that won’t tell me
If he’s thinking of me too

It’s the ache that comes from longing
To hear the sound of his voice
But I’m too scared to call
Unless I’m already drunk

It’s that feeling in the pit of my stomach
Everyone calls butterflies, but really
It feels like too much, just so much

It happens when you start to fall.

And it’s a slap in my own the face
As I hide deeper inside of myself
Because he is beautiful
And I am all sharp edges

He is enough
But I am just not ready

II.

I always find myself going back to you
When I imagine how I wanted it to be
And what I wish I had said

It’s so strange to be here
So many years later
Still wondering if it was you all along

We shared this kiss once
You and I
Once of those steamy
Spur of the moment
You only live once type of deals

I know you remember it too

My heart hurts just thinking about it because
It was always such a blur of wrongtimewrongplacewrongsomething
Between me and you

I guess I never stopped being too scared to call
Unless I was already drunk
It’s been years since I heard your voice
But I am haunted

please leave me alone
to walk these pathways solo
I was hoping you wouldn't notice
but I think you already know

I know I have problems
and I'm trying to fix them
but what words can be enough
for a desire to even say them

for every time I open my mouth
I wish that I had closed it
remembering the times I messed things up
and the disappearing moments

I give far too much
and I know that I shouldn't
cause I have nothing left to give
so at least I know I'm used to it

throw the page away
so you can make the same mistakes
tear the edges so it frays
i just want my hand to fade

I can’t stand looking in the mirror.
Just wanting to slice away the imperfections.
Want to rip my veins to never feel again.
To succumb to the nothingness that I am.
Be something for someone in the afterlife.
Enough leftover pain to make them cry.
For being the spitting image of what I lack.
You should know, scrolling through your phone, seeing the prettiest beings with their legs spread wide open and fingers in their mouth drooling for your eyes to see them.

and I just think:
****, I just want to be enough for you.

Would you love me if I  gave you my body?
Because my soul wasn’t enough

When I feel
Inadequate
I get the urge to
Cut
Like slicing my
Arm
Would make me
Worthy
Would make me
Enough
As if
Devouring
My flesh would
Prove
That I am as they
Say
I am
Not good
Enough
Not good
Enough.
No.
I'm
More
Than
Enough.

the things i want to do to you
drive me mad
with insatiable lust,
your allure is too much,
but if that wasn't enough
i think i'm falling for you