I remember sitting with my legs crossed
at an empty parking lot with you.
Burning our lungs,
sharing our deepest secrets at 3am
while I rest my head
on your shoulder that cold summer night.
I sang along our favorite songs
and you wished that time stopped
so we could still be together.

But alas,

You are still too damaged.
You think too much.
You are too practical.
You are not yet ready for anything.

And I’m left confused
and angry
and frustrated
and a little bit hurt, I guess.

So here we are again,
so here we go again.

Who would have thought
that we would actually
burn even faster
than our cigarettes?

                                                    ­                        
 — apbq

It started out as her nickname and turned into her lifestyle.

When something is dead,

they let it stay dead.


But when you're dead inside,
they fight and fight just to keep you alive.

But when something is dead,
you must let it die.

"stop missing him,"*
i whisper to myself
as i try to wash
your name
out of my mouth;
bathe my body
from your touch
and cleanse my soul
from your love.