I went to bed last night
With a little square of chocolate,
And woke up with
chocolate sheets --

You weren't supposed to do that
There were rules, guidelines
You can't just waltz in here
And break every word
No
You were given instructions
How to handle with care
There were expectations
You agreed before entering
Yet
You didn't just trash the place
You left devastation, a mess
Breaking every piece, every rule
You weren't supposed to break me

Today you turned up washed,
Almost if a wave passed through the sheets of your bed.
Your hair is a mess,
As you etch a careful drawing in pen.
Careful to not miss a mark,
There's no erasing it,
Or anything you've done.

Chin up Chuck; the girl broke your heart
you say “I don’t give a ****” but she tore you apart.
You think you’ll figure it out, and that she just might stay
but after the words you shout, she knows she has to go away.
Something’s you can’t get loose
something’s just get stuck.
You’ll wonder if it was love or abuse
but chin up, Chuck.

Chin up Chuck, you’ve been left in the dark
lost all of your luck but hope for a spark.
You think you’ll find a route, get out of it all alive,
drag and pull boot by boot, praying you might survive.
Something’s you can’t just find
something’s just get stuck.
Are you in the dark or are you blind?
Still chin up, Chuck.

Chin up Chuck; the world gives you quarrel
you’ve drowned in the muck and let go of each moral.
You think you’ll be missed, maybe seen as a
martyr,
in truth you’d be ****** because you’re only seen as a **** starter.
Something’s won’t go right
something’s just get stuck,
but you don’t ever give up the fight
because you’re Chin up Chuck.

you can pour it out unrefined.
i can hold it for you,
the mess made by your love,
one i verbosely write about,
but, never truly understand.

darling, we can just figure it out,
as we go places and stay
within each other's hold.
for better or for worst,
i am your willing capable mold.

when she loves,
she spills over.
she makes a mess,
a mud puddle.
so, lover, be creative
to stay afloat.
if you must bring
a boat and a paddle because
the way she loves drowns—
heart always full, lungs out of breath.
your ribs expand
to take in some air.
your sigh, despair
of loving instead.
maybe like her old flames, soon, you too
would wish
her love burns less.
but, she is meant to engulf all,
like the waves that hit the shore
with unrelenting energy.
she is meant
to be consumed
by the whole of your body.
no, she cannot water down her love
for you, for anybody.
and so, lover,
just hold her steady.
any less is unworthy.

i strip my skin, to show you my flesh. and i am met with tears and apologies muffled by your sobbing. i would cry with you, comfort you, tell you how good of a person you are. but now, my scars revealed again, i point at you shamelessly and i tell you it’s your fault. where sympathy and pity was, i only hold resentment. maybe in a few years i will have clarity, a new perspective, and i will feel guilty for how i was, but not now. you complain about your burdens and i take them on. the weight of it all.
everyday i feel it, my body, dropping a little lower. my feet once stable, now cramping under the pressure. and so i cut myself open and i tell you of my bruised body, but still. you can only cry and look at me, without ever doing anything.