Yesterday you kissed me like you loved me.
Tonight you tell me that there was never anything there.
I smell you on my skin and it seems that no matter
how hard I scrub it wont go away.
My hands have started to bleed because I keep
scrubbing and I'm only losing skin.
I know tomorrow you will lay your head against my chest
and tell me you love me. I will believe because it sounds so real
But then I will come home and scrub again.
I guess what I'm trying to say is when you love someone
even if they don't love you back, they leave their mark,
and all you'll have left is scars of where you scrubbed too hard.

She had it all now its all gone
she thought she had no other option but she was wrong
The thoughts piled in her head she could not go back
she started to pressure her thoughts until she cracked

She thought she was a burden too difficult to bear
all she wanted to do was for it all to be adhere
So many death questions floating in her head
she wanted to get it over and done with and be dead

She observed all her previous tries
all she did was but fall to the ground and cry
The thought of doing it properly finely caved in
she thought what she was doing was really but finally brave

She held the knife tight to her neck and the sharp blade to her wrists
she left the reasons of why she couldn't take it on a morbid long list
She slashed her throat with the knife
and in just one split  second she was removed from life

Something about how I still look for your face in everyone else's, or
Something about how I still shout "I miss you" into the void.
Write something
Everyone says,
"Write something,"
But all I can think of is the way you said my name.  
So I'll write something about how I am more banned book than girl,
Something about how miles away feels too close now,
Something about never wanting to hold a hand again.
(But I am not, and it is not, and I do.)

This is the best I can do.  
Something about how my love crossed an ocean,
And something about how you never wanted it to travel there in the first place.

is it that worth it
when i don't have
a real reason
to fight it?
why pretend
everything is fine,
when in reality
everything pretty much
*****?

Like life, people isn't perfect.

People usually complicate things.
People make mistakes.
People hurt each other.
People do stupid things.

And then, excuses the fact that they are just people who can make mistakes?

*Mistakes is a choice.

Breathing in,
Exhaling smoke from my lungs
An elixir
A rhythmic motion to ease my mind
Euphoria on my tongue
A space in time,
Closing my eyes,
It's hard to define the same feeling
With any other action
A reaction
To you dealing out metaphors
Double meanings and fake lines.
Exhaling you out my mind
The cloud wraps around my head,
Settling in my hair,  
Like your scent on my sheets
Inhaling on repeat,
The memories burn slowly
Until they eventually fade out
And the smoke cloud can be seen through clearly.

**Until I light my next cigarette and your scent is the smoke and your face is burning at the end, yet I can't quit you or just put you out of your misery, it's too addicting.