you would stare at me
and never look away
like i do at him now
and your hands shake
eyes glazed over
similar to an exorcism
and your soft hands
and your black shadow
and your smell
and your mysterious face
and i'm not yours
anymore
and you're not yourself
anymore
you're not my Charles Bukowski
anymore
you're like a figment of my imagination
that's become lost in reality
I might as well forget

you would stare at me
and never look away
like i do at him now
and your hands shake
eyes glazed over
similar to an exorcism
and your soft hands
and your black shadow
and your smell
and your mysterious face
and i'm not yours
anymore
and you're not yourself
anymore
you're not my Charles Bukowski
anymore
you're like a figment of my imagination
that's become lost in reality
I might as well forget

i've said it once
and ill say it again.

the only way to write perfectly
and in tone with your insides
is when you have a broken heart

or else words get too jumbled
your brain becomes calm
your stomach, resting.
your heart is full and taped together.

there's a difference and it shows
there''s nothing to write about
when you're happy
sane
not depressed
loved.

Margaret had the right idea,
talking to God about her problems
as simply as she could.
dead pan explaining the torture she feels
while being a 16 year old girl.
what if i talked to God then too?
would i still be a messed up 26 year old?
are you there God, it's me, Ally.
there has been a pit in my stomach all day,
and i want to dig it out.
the boy who broke my heart months ago
wants to come back into my life
and i don't know if i should let him.
do you have any wise words for me, God?
i feel stupid asking about this because
i already know the answer.

i can never amount to anything
i cant look in the mirror
and see who i want to see
there are imperfections
so many imperfections
there is awkwardness
there is fear

when will i see myself
as the girl who likes to laugh
the girl who made jokes
even when they weren't funny
the girl who took no offence
to her own judgement
the girl who was oblivious
to controversial topics
the girl who took every ones opinions
and shoved them in the garbage

shes too weak now
there are small cracks in her skin
making it easy for intruders
to see inside of her
to get inside her brain

i cant sleep to all the racket

the tightness
the aching
the restlessness
the eyelid twitch
the fidgeting
the cheek biting
the leg bouncing
the staring off
the autopilot
the shallow breathing

all these things amount to one thing
holding in the words "i love you"
because you know it's not right