You are a certain type of something
You left empty picture frames and broken glass when you disappeared
On Sunday mornings your drowned yourself in liquor and honey, never giving a **** what anyone had to say.
Intimacy to you was a soft spoken poem that you wrote half drunk in the middle of the day.
Dancing around the living room in the middle of the night, singing the words to the song at the top of your lungs
Jesus Christ you're so ******* beautiful
Being with you was like driving right into oncoming traffic.

Where is the poem,
the one I culdn't feel?
Escaped, like a flock of gulls
when all that's left is shells.
The mussels gone
or rotted
by heavy salty air;
exposed like a heart
to a fisherman
who never eats his catch
but hasn't the sense
to toss it in the water.
I am a shell,
with nothing succulent
to share.

go on and walk away, there is noting more that i can say,
i never mattered to you anyway.

treat me like a stranger, treat me like a joke,
when my heart is in danger, and all my dreams
gone up in smoke.
make me feel like a fool for ever believing in you,
oh how you laugh and you poke.

i remember when i was your bestfriend,
although it was long ago, when you said
that i became someone that you didn't wish to  know.
i remember all the screaming and the sorrow
that happened after, smoking on the train tracks,
the long phone calls and the laughter,
you were the whole book to me, but to you
i was just a chapter, i remember when you left
me, a broken disaster.

i remember when you told me that i would
see you soon, you crying in the car, when my heart
bursted like a baloon. i still remember all the talks we
had, the friendship, the madness and regret, but that
friendship was lost a long time ago.
i just hadn't grasped it yet.
i guess that i didn't realise that i was so
easy for you to just forget.
all this time i thought you cared,
because of all of the things that we shared,
i guess i should have known, and should have
gotten it through my head, when you let them taunt me
on the phone, and said you wouldn't care if i were dead.

when i was lost, looking for an anwser,
restless and unsure,
i had never felt more insecure.
maybe this person that i'm remembering
was never, who you really were.

She used to yell when i stayed up for four days straight.
She used to cry when I'd come home late.
She used to scream every time i got high.
She used to ask about every cut i tried to hide.
She used to do a lot of things.
She, my mother, used to care...
Now she doesn't even have an ounce to spare.

You love to brag
Only thing you're good at
You say I'm the most important thing to you
and yet
you have no idea how old i am,
what my favourite colour is,
you try to feed me jelly even though I'm alergic.
You know my mental sanity is precarious
I'm crumbling.
But you insist on stressing me out
time after time.
Stop.
Start over.
Or better yet,
just leave
Best you could give me is peace. silence
Your absence, the most thoughtful of gifts.
Relief at last.