I am addicted to these sleepless nights, the ones where heart and mind are in a state of perpetual flight.
Hooked on these panic attacks that have plagued me every second since the day you left.
I have track marks from the harsh drugs that are your words, the ones you inject into my veins when all you want is for me to feel pain...
...and I have nothing to say for myself other than
I am an addict.

God used to love me best.

He says I'm a fallen star.
He says I'll make it big one day,
I say it is true because I always get what I want.

Except for him.

And this is when I take a big gulp of the drink
I am pretending is not way too strong and
it is burning the back of my throat and
I think this is what hell is.

I do not burn in the hell of myself,
I have learned that hell is other people.

He tells me I am perfect and if this is what he wanted,
he would put a ring on my finger.

I have heard this many many times.
I am never the one.

It's not so much that I want to be,
I'd just like to have a choice.

I'd just like to burn in my own hell once in a while.

*** when you're in love is amazing, you can have awkward moments but not care and just laugh it off.
You are comfortable enough to ask for certain things, positions and do what you know the other likes.
But when that *** is expected from you, everyday, and there is no time to think "I want to have ***"
All you think is "I love him and if I don't **** him, he'll leave"
You lose that spark.
The way your heart use to race at his breath on your neck or his hand moving to lift your shirt off, just evaporates
*** turns into a chore that you have to do daily, like doing the dishes or going to work
It's not longer something that you desire but something you just know has to happen at some point that day.
Love exists without ***, and *** can exist without love.
But to keep that love, there shouldn't be the need for ***.
Don't tell them "it's *** with you, or I find it with someone else"
*** isn't a chore, and it isn't the key to love.

make art everywhere
undress the lucky ones just to find out what makes them tick.
know a boy for 4 days, decide you like his personality, kiss him behind your best friends shed
stop acting like there's something more to the hurried way he lights his cigarettes.
It was never supposed to happen like this.
but, i fell in love with the way you broke your promises
I spent weeks breathing air only to realize it was only the way you grabbed my hips that mattered.
stuck in this endless loop of trying to teach the sun to forgive and the moon to forget
i've been lost in moments of tilted sunlight and dancing fingertips.
Now I'm thinking maybe I never loved you more than this.
yes, I drank the darkness
tell dad i'm off to get drunk with the creator.


I'm only a rough draft with tentative revisions lying on your bedside table. This is what happens to me at night.
yes, I drank the darkness.
This is how I stay up trying to capture the memory of light before it was ****** into your coffee cup eyes. Trying to understand how I continuously fit so perfectly into your palms after I've told myself for months that I'd outgrown your games. And when we fell in the mud I screamed I would not get cleaned up at your place but, took your hand anyway. Cuz' it was always a ***** little love we had anyways. But, I'll tell you what, it ***** realizing your life is full of a bunch of romantic metaphors that don't mean jack ****.  And that rain falls through roofs every once in a while in a healthy home but, I've just been saying my palms were enough defense against this storm. Is it okay to ask for help now? Lightning, the old frenemy, has split me right open and no this is not an excuse to dig. I just need a warm body to carry me home tonight.
I don't want your pity I want art.
you're not the man of my dreams but you're this boy that'll do.

I will be your spring if you will be my summer and I will be your fall if you will be my winter

Whatever happened that night is something we both needed.
As for the future,
I'm not worried about it.
We both learned stuff  
Made a memory
Whatever happens next happens.
Even if that means you can't look at me.
Even if that means we get to be friends.
I'm not crossing my fingers for some crazy outcome of "us".
Magical as that may be,
We only saw two shooting stars
At the time neither of us had anything to wish for
Except the night to never end.
And if we never forget it then it never will.
You have an amazing man who loves you.
I'm just a memory who helped you realize that.
I finally realized I'm not trapped in a bubble of meaningless ***,
I can actually love someone again.
Even though it was placed in an unobtainable
Chimera of every single thing I could possibly love,
At least now I know I can feel that.
And that makes me more happy than any
Ill-fated prophecy.
You love your husband.
And if a day comes you can look at me and call me friend
I'll be ready for it.
I'll greet you with a handshake and a smile
I promise I'll never advance on you again.
I won't ever try to contact you until I know it's appropriate,
Out of respect.
I've been in his shoes and it's awful
There's nothing I can due but stop talking to you.
So I'll do just that.
Until it's okay again.
Thank you for everything.
I needed you as much as you needed me.
I will never feel awkward when I see you.
I hope someday it goes both ways.
I don't feel bad or seduced or betrayed.
I just feel happy to have met you.
Because I never would have been able to get over what my ex did to me
If I wasn't in the shoes of the man who took her.
I finally realized it wasn't his fault.
I don't have to hate him.
It wasn't her fault either.
Sometimes people just feel things.
And that's okay.
Because in the end, we make decisions,
And feel other things.

Goodbye until you decide to say hello.
You're an amazing girl and he's lucky.

I came across a chimera yesterday.
It had the legs of a beautiful egyptian *** goddess

She covered them with pants she had bought that morning
My favorite color,
Pistachio cream
She had no idea what my favorite color was,
luck should have it,
She's perfect.
Her personality had traits of every woman
I'd ever fallen in love with
Alphabetical From

Anxiety to
Brand new
Comfortable
Directionally challenged
Embarrassed when I caught her smiling
Flirtatious
Goregeous
Home schooled
Intelligent
Jealous
Kitchen working
Lavender loving
Mistake making
Neglected
Open hearted
Passionate
Queer
Religious
Self-analyzing
Takes off her wedding ring
Understanding
Venomous
Worried about everything
Xerox'd onto her
Yeilding Body.
Zodiac stamped

Like she was made especially for me.
she wasn't...
She belonged to somebody else.

~~~~~

She told me I represented the end of the world.
We saw shooting stars and the only thing we could wish was
"Please let this night last forever."

Because once we climbed down our milkcrate staircase
We had to deal with the consequences.

Our lips were so close that I could tell her breath was sweet,
like poison.

She gave me her body.
Pressed it against me like we
Were one whole creature.

I love making woman glow.
Love seeing woman cry.
Not for some sick sadistic pleasure
because ironically,
I hate lying.
When you're glowing or crying
At least you're real.

She was so...
Real...
Just like the rooftop we layed on.
The shooting stars,
The kiss.
Her begging me to hate her.
Touches and moans.
Warmth and the softness of her skin.

Now, I'm just a name
On a list of regrets
That she passes to him
In her worst nightmares.

Before her I thought I couldn't love again.
Broken to the idea of relationships.
Meaningless pleasure.
At least now
I'm broken for a different reason.

We lock eyes across a swarm of strangers
and for brief moment time slowed
It is only your presence I notice
I force myself to look away but I can't
Content with being stuck in this moment
Compelled by your familiar eyes

Day after day we share these looks
Even when I don't see you
I feel your eyes upon me
As if pulled towards the gravity of your stare
Tempted to discover your intentions

Oneday I take in all of you
My eyes run over your entire body
and rests on your hands
Where I see the band on your wedding finger
My eyes drop to the floor

I have averted your gaze ever since
Your intense, passionate, all-consuming stares
Should be afforded to your wife, not me

She married a dead man
She didn't know at the time
But he died before she had ever met him
Heart first
Soul second

He died the summer after his sophomore year of college
When he was crushed
By loves pavement likeness
His girlfriend at the time
Told him it was over
And proceeded to string him along until
One morning in August he went to surprise her
And after several of his calls went to voicemail
He traversed the steps to her apartment
And knocked on door 401.

He was greeted by a large fellow named Mike who asked in a limited vocabulary
Who he thought he was?
And why would he interrupt
An intimate moment between Mike and Mike's side piece?
Although he was confused by Mike's use of third person
The expletives Mike chose were both clear in their intensity and intent.

He was never sure how he got to his car
Perhaps he had floated down the stairway
Then again maybe he skipped the short jaunt altogether
And teleported.
He reached his dorm room, and there
He was sure his heart died
And it had.

See his heart first bled out empathy,
Then sympathy and later trust
The cold ***** let go of love last of all.
Only hours before his future wife had met him.
She was life support the yellow streak  in his grey sunset.
She loved him like only she could
With trust, truth and devotion,
And his heart still died

But that death didn't keep him
From marrying her 6 years after his heart's eulogy was read.
And while her patience waned and
His chilly heart
Hid the truth from her
She loved him

And though it took 3 years
She realized
Someone had killed their love.
Before they even knew what they shared.
Salted the soil of their romance,
And rather than move on
Her love was stuck,
He and his dead heart
Were no longer moving forward ,
But in the most real way
His heart was dead.
Killed by an unrequited love.
Long before now.