i was fine
until i remembered you
and i dont want you back
i just want the past to be my present
and live forever in your room
each day be the same as the last
just you
just me
surrounded by empty cans
listening to that one band
all it took was one smell
a reminder of when days were clearer
and my mind didnt blur
and i may have been sad
but who'd have known i'd be sadder
the days are getting shorter
i dont care
i care to much
i dont want to die
i want to have never existed

You are the unbearable sort of thing that I wouldn’t want to wear on my feet, even with boots laced up to the knees, because wearing you would force me to cover my polka-dotted toes,
And anyone who would want to compromise my innocence like that is horribly patterned and dull,
                                              
Like the lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate, gathering dust on that shelf in the rain, where the rest of my unwelcome thoughts have found place
                                                           ­     The ones that can’t cover my insecurities
                                                    ­                            Or don’t flatter my figure at all
              
                There’s an obvious scab on my ankle that won’t heal
                Embarrassing, really
                It came from my unwavering faith in open-toed stilettos
                                You saw it just the other day
                                And I blushed as I tried to pull my pant leg over the sore, but you knew (I think)

Oh, the puzzling urge I have to be made over by the brains of your outfits!
                                                So I can open a closet of conversation topics that would suit both of us just fine

I think
                                                I have shed 18 years of ideas in the past two weeks
                                                I starved myself until I could fit into the apparel of your approval
                                                Which I claw through my closets but still cannot find
                                                But I know that somewhere in my brain beneath an empty toilet paper roll or stuck on a dead branch of ideas is a match to your unbearable pattern-
              
Perhaps if I’d kept my opinions more alphabetized, I would’ve found it sooner
                Blast, my scattered brain that can’t seem to produce any fashion but faux pas for you
                Logic and emotion were never meant to mix like this- trust me, I know well
Give me a summer to rearrange myself, hmm?
                Or will I have no use of you then…

If only I’d started to realize sooner
We’d be peeling oranges and discussing the oldest styles of thought, you and I
                Beneath an umbrella in the rain
                                You wouldn’t be able to see that odd scab on my ankle
                                Because I would have the other lone argyle sock with the tag still attached that I hate-

I feel that perhaps
you are only unbearable because I wish you complimented me better, that perhaps the reason I’m starving myself of all reason is because I’d like nothing more than to openly say
that I hate you, my lone, little argyle sock
                                                but that is only
                                                because right now, I could never possibly hope to wear you

I'm mad at you
But I miss you

I don't wanna talk to you
But I need you

I wanna push you away
But I want you to hold me

I wish I could forget you
But at the same time I want you in my  life forever

I love you
But I don't want to

He looked at me with hunger,
But not like a wolf to a sheep,
He stared at me in awe,
Because of me he didn't sleep.

I knew he wanted me first,
He was practically a puddle,
When I shook his hand,
All he could do was stutter,

When I was intrigued,
He came a bit too near,
And he nibbled and chewed,
But I didn't have fear,

I let him inside me,
In all the ways he wanted,
I was literally wasted,
From then I was haunted,

He slapped my thighs,
And held on real tight,
He liked that noise,
When I'd squeal just right,

He'd look at my lips,
Just plump and pink,
He'd lean in and bite them,
I couldn't even think,

I couldn't stand him,
I hated him so much,
But I was defenseless,
I was lost in his clutch,

I was leashed and tied,
Lost in his lies,
I was addicted to sin,
He'd opened my eyes,

I loved how he touched me,
He knew what was right,
I hated how he held me,
It was always too tight.

I am going to ******* say it a thousand **** times,
And then once more because
i hate you and
maybe once your gone
my migraines and
self destruction will
leave too.

I hate that you hate me.
I hate that I cant be what you want.
I hate that you don't realize the pain you cause me.
I hate that you pretend that we are a perfect family.
I hate that you laugh everything off and never listen to me.
I hate the way you make me feel.

Why is it we cant choose our family?
Why do we have to learn to love them?
Why cant we choose them like we do our friends?

I cant love someone who doesn't love me.

I ****. You said it yourself.

I hate that you pretend that you didn't say it.
I hate that you dont feel guilty for being a bad parent.

What about me?
What about my happiness?
What about my life?

I hate that you don't listen to me, or accept who I am.
Because it makes it even harder for me to do that when my own mother cant.

So stop thinking about yourself.
And realize that your daughter needs help.

Im suicidal and you cant even tell.
What does that say about how much you care?
Or how much you even love me?


**Do you even love me?

I know how to say
"I love you" in
English and French,
and Spanish and Italian,
and Russian and Bulgarian,
and Arabic and Dothraki
and High Valyrian,
and Klingon,
and in any other language
you ask,
I know how to
write "I love you"
in Gallifreyan and
Tengwar,
I know how to make up
a billion different poems
about my love for you.

But still, it won't make you
love me back. I somehow
was never enough for you.
You keep me awake every night
wondering why you left
and I think it's high time
I started looking up
how to say "I don't hate you",
"I've moved on", "I don't miss you"
and "I am okay" in all these
languages in which
"I love you" didn't matter.

i dream of you
and i am thine
but when i wake up
you're never mine

*

the next time you
travel by plane
and you look at the
person beside you,
remember my sweaty
palm clenching yours
and my nervous squeezes
and how I kissed you
a thousand miles above
the water
among clouds
and how i slept on your
shoulder in the bus
afterwards
and ask yourself
if another
will walk into the
duty free and put on
expensive makeup
that she can't afford
and then kiss you
with blood-red
a-hundred-bucks
chanel lips.

you're not mine
but i'm not thine either
and it is your loss,
honey.