You said to write you poetry, and that you'd be mine.
Looks like someone beat me to it.

I wish I could be his lips, for they are embracing yours, not mine, tonight.
I ache to be his arms, to hold you tightly and never to let go feeling your warmth and softness.
I crave to be his eyes to look at you once more, soaking in your ethereal radiance.
I long to be his chest, to have you rest your head upon me listening to my heartbeat and soft breathing, falling asleep upon me.
I yearn to be his ears, to hear your soft and poetic words as they dance around in my head once again in that special way that only you can create.
I Miss Loving You.

my father was a drunk
mother was a *****
dad spent his paycheck on *****
so we were always poor
drinkings what he chooses
going to school with bruises
no friends to talk to
zipper always askew
although they stared
no one cared
until the boy with the charming eyes
the one who told such pretty lies
but i didnt mind
he was ever so kind
finding ways to make me smile
but of course he left after a while
but who could blame him?
i am just a broken kid full of sin
he was an angel
and all i do is make things painful

dont get sad get angry
dad beats you?
get angry
best friend commits suicide?
get angry
love of your life leaves you?
get angry

not even her with the candy coated lips and the spark from her fingertips
could take my mind off you
not her with the lungs full of smoke
as she takes another ****
could take my mind off you
not her with the plastered on frown
and the "dark black" crown
could take my mind off you
not her with the shiny blade
and the chrome handle
could take my mind off you
not her with the orange filter
and the smooth draw
could take my mind off you
only her with the sensitive trigger
and the steel barrel
could take my mind off you
and away from me

teardrops on a bedroom pillow
blood drops into the bathroom sink
my heart drops into my stomach
my voice drops to a monotone whisper
my body drops to the floor
my mother drops me off at the hospital
morticians drop my body into the casket
the priest drops the casket into the earth
the worms drop into my hollow chest

Pretty boy's gone
Since yesterday,
done with flirtin and acting gay
Bad Boy's back with the cigarette lighter and the twenty sack of **** to get a little higher
Ever since they went away, well
pretty boy's been full of dismay
heartbroken and lonesome he roams the town
looking for some ***** in which he'll drown,
broken and beaten
mean and old
on the street is where he sold
his pills and ****
his cid and lean
oh Pretty boy, sure got mean.
All the pretty girls tried to fix him
But he never could forget about the one that tricked him.
the one who stomped on his heart like a cigarette ****
extinguishing the warmth within him
like a punch to the gut
his eyes, once warm and inviting
are cold and dark
full of thunder and a spark of lightning