Cute right,
How you would always visit me with a single red rose.
I used to add the delicate flower to the vase full from your previous visits.
Now I look to the single rose in the vase as its ghostly form dwindles.

Funny right,
How you would tell me you wanted to be better as you inhale from your cigarette.
I would always lecture you of the harm you were doing to yourself,
But now I stay silent as I twist my body away from the smoke that escapes your lips.

Ironic right,
How your lips would fill me with warmth when your finger tips felt so cold.
I used to describe you as more of a concept than a person.
Now I think of you as more of a metaphor than my boyfriend.

Peculiar right,
How you would hide your phone under your pillow as you promised transparency.
I used to toss and turn to get comfortable with that extra weight on our bed,
Now I sleep perfectly as I turn and settle facing away from you.

Bitter right,
How you’d smile as you would so cryptically point out my floors.
I used to look up at you as you critiqued me so detailedly,
Now I look to my shoes and let your words fly straight over me.

Curious right,
How you would tell me you were all mine as you moved your hands away to rest in your pockets.
I used to create intricate plans to gain your touch and affection,
Now I shift in my seat as my body instinctively flinches from your touch.

Reasonable right,
How I stood up, the chair scraping against the tiled floor as I placed my napkin on the table and turned to walk to the door.
Before you might have chased me to the door and led me back inside.
But now you remain seated as I leave and call a taxi home.

Pathetic right,
How I let one tear fall from my eyes as I watch the city pass my eyes through the window of a taxi.
Before I could never make it past the gates.
Now I inhale a deep breath and promise myself that I won’t look back as I throw the last red petal out of the car window.

You are the tide,
And I am the shore.
Coming and going,
I crumble once more.

Tumbling and churning,
Bits of me swept afar.
Repeatedly I let you win,
Tidal crashing over my *******.

Loud and roaring,
Your waves smash.
Battering my rocks,
Leaving your trash.

The moon begins to pull,
And you leave once more.
Because you are the tide,
And I am the shore.

I hope that song
Doesn’t sound the same
And you can’t listen to it
Without hearing my name.

I hope that view
Doesn’t look quite right,
And that you can’t stare off
Without me in your mind.

I hope that seat
In the coffee shop
Feels much to big
Without me in my spot

I hope that food
Doesn’t taste quite right
and leave a bitter flavor in your mouth all night.

I hope I have ruined
Your everything
Because you have destroyed
Me entirely.
-ALC August 11, 2017

This poem isn't one about boys.
This poem isn't a tribute to the girls
Who got their hearts broken by an idiot.
But I pray for them too.

This poem is not  plea for attention,
This poem is not a bargaining chip.

This is to the little girls who's
Fathers hurt them more
Than any boy ever could
This is an ode to the girls who cry over
An abandoned office.
This is for the warriors who fought through the pain.

You've wondered if it was your fault.
You've wondered if there was anything
You or anyone could've done.
The nights you've seen pass by
As you contemplate why he didn't stay
Are countless.

You've written poems about the
Emptiness you've felt
Because of his absence.
You've rehearsed in your mind what it would
Be like
If he came back.
You've thought about how it would be
If life were perfect.

...

i stopped writing poems
because the only poems that were leaking off the pen
were always inked with traces of you
i couldn't bare it any more
not writing about you
especially now that you've taken it upon yourself to leave
drive miles and miles away never turning your head to check the rearview mirror
I can't stand the thought of you
out there alone
lonely, with shivers in your heart
with no one there to whisper in your ear
it will all be alright,
hey, i love you
the thought of your hands being cold at night and no one there
to hold them
makes me want to scream
but I know
I know to move forward you have to leave past, past
somehow I became past when I used to be future
I don't recall when that happened
just promise me as you leave
you'll take one more look in your rearview
let me blow you a kiss and wave you off as you drive goodbye
one last act of love for my baby
let me let you leave

If I wasn't scared to do so, I would have left the world.
It has given me more pain than not.
I smile less and less each passing day.
My mind shuts down with each ticking of the clock.

My soul keeps getting picked at by the crows who remind us that death is coming with each mindless caw.
They love to scream it to the skies.
As I lie there with my essence bleeding out I think to myself "can it come any sooner?"

I would do it myself, but I'm too afraid, and who knows, maybe there will be a light that clears my path soon or that lifts this unfair burden off of my shoulders.
Despite this naive hope I have, if I was "brave" enough, I would have left this place already.