#twoyears
“You were blonde when we met” You said
Lips pulled into Your sinister smile.
“I wanted you so bad.”
Exactly 730 days since our lips met.
But who’s counting?
730 days of trying to leave
But You pulling me back.
Each time hoping for something different,
But ending always the same.
Me, alone.
You with her or her or her,
Or even next to me.
But still: You leaving me alone.
(Until You get lonely).
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
my eyes were open for two years
fear, I couldn't close them, even when it was so clear
what had I just signed up for,
you swore, why are we in a civil war
waiting for you to just ******* crash
but with your stash, you're having a blast
drifting away from reality,
carefree, giving me the third degree, you lost me
control couldn't save you
and neither could I
I knew we just both had to survive
I felt weak, but now I know I was strong
my eyes were tired for being open for so **** long
you didn't just crash, you ******* burned
you burned all of your bridges with no where left to turn
flight or fight, fright, I can't trust you without a ******* knife,
I closed my eyes, finally, and I suddenly gained all sight
I didn't need a reason to help you
but maybe I wanted to close my eyes again
maybe I wanted peace, a close to an end
because for two years,
I couldn't close my eyes
so thank you
now I am wise
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
My textbooks, propped between our knees,
I study how this became
our hot dates and the way I get to lean
on your chest makes me tingly,
shallow-breathed,
but I shift around
so you don’t feel my heart bumping in
between the stillness
of our bodies.
—stillness—
We lay in the same bed and actually sleep;
no squeezing fingers and searching
mouths, but at least our clothes stay on
and I don’t have to search for my nightgown
shoved under wrinkled
sheets, or worry
about ****** wrappers
stuck to my skin.
Finished with our club meetings
and fundraisers, we act like weekend
warriors, clinking bottles in half-lit
rooms, sliding around, laughing
in each other’s faces
and once we’ve smoked our stress
away, I place your hand
under the ruffles of my skirt and kiss
your neck, whispering
I want you
Please touch me
I need you
but you put your lips
to my forehead, mumbling
that you’re tired and won’t keep it up
because you’re strung out
on Red Bull and Adderall, promising
we will tomorrow night.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Do you know what today is?
Today is the two year anniversary
Of when I began to confide in you
On a late night drive back from Barnes & Noble
You wanted to buy me dinner
So by the light of your dashboard
I was forced to explain --
I chose to tell you --
That I had a problem and couldn't eat
And you told me that I'd be okay
Which I later was
Up until the day you cut me out
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
almost two years,
oh god, two whole years
and you still *******
haunt my mind.
still wake me up at night
breathing heavily,
bathed in sweat,
crying harder than i think is possible,
screaming for you to stop,
hands off,
not yours.
i haven't been
"yours"
for almost two years
and you still
hold a knife
in my chest.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
It's the day
Of sorrow and grief
it's the day I'm tired
the that I leaped
Today marks two years
Of that time I don't speak of
The day it all ended
The day I wasn't mended
The girl was away
What else could I say
I was alone and afraid
My life wasn't made
My stomach full of lead
It's all in my head
I collapse on the bed
I'm already dead
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
I walk these roads as
if I had known that
letter boxes are more like
an ice-box for transplant hearts-
you must move quickly or else
time tames the rest.
Words were like the map of veins drawn
on the back of my hands; I
thought that maybe if I
keep on walking
my heartbeat like a siren beating very fast
could guide me home.
And I am home.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC