even though we said we were in love i often found my fingers wrapped around another cigarette than intertwined with your fingers. my lips have touched more bottles of ***** than your bottom lip. i felt more empty being with you than sitting in my room at 3 a.m bawling my eyes out for the 3rd time this week because you looked at that girl in a more passionate way than you've ever looked at me. in fact I'm not even sure that those were butterflies i was feeling in my stomach or the pain of knowing that you wouldn't be mine for long. i fill all the empty holes in my heart with things that will make me end up being more empty.

tonight there's a fire in texas
& it's screaming out for the all the bodies it's lost there
in some grand american war
in someone else's glorious battle

the backyard tree was too high for you to climb
& so you took a jaunt to the brooklyn bridge and jumped
to see what it was like to fly

& tonight there's a fire in her chest that bleeds
for her father's bones to be buried next to hers
even though for years he didn't know her name
or what her laugh sounded like
i guess he forgot to check the post

& tonight there's a broadcast on the radio
the presidents been assassinated
& somehow that's your fault
for being to open about your love for your best friend, tom
who also happens to be a boy

& tomorrow there'll be an earthquake in memphis
& it'll be because there's too much *** on tv
god must be flapping his wings hard enough to shake
our great and grand scheme of things

& yesterday a little girl lay awake in her bed
counting her ribcage to make sure she can see every bone
she's praying she won't lose track of them under the meat

& tonight i will drink a tall glass of wine
so i can feel something
other than all the pain we've created for each other

**** this.
*******.
we were never meant to be.
or so you've told me.

and not even months
of therapy
and kind words
and all medication to numb
my brain,
will mend the hole in my heart.

and maybe if i kissed you a little bit harder,
held your hand a little bit tighter,
hugged you a little bit softer,
told you i loved you a little bit more often,
maybe you would have stayed a little bit longer.

and finally, one day i found the courage
to tell him what i was doing to myself.
how i would etch his name into my skin
on those lonely nights i hadn't seen your face,
how i took up smoking to fill that gap in my heart
that my ex lover took with him last year,
and i told him about the things, deep dark inside
about how i barely ate anything this month
and how i wished to die.

and all he did was shake his head and sigh saying,
" but you're too happy to want to end your life".

Sitting in a pool of ****,
other peoples ****,
**** all over me,
I am nothing,
just an object,
a still life subject
art school joke,
I'm a mess,
a **** stain,
a fugitive on the run,
running away from life.