Fated temptress

The sway of your head in. The back and forth motion

Something that almost seems to be a talent

Commoner and empress

Eyes as deep as the ocean

Treading so gallant

The muse with a motive for *****

Just the simple ****

What she will do to follow

The sexually Venus

Every eyebrow to pluck

The **** to the swallow

Valiant bottled frame

With no good intentions

To be torn between woman and *****

She has her needs

And needs her wants

She won't stop

The devious ****

I fell for it
I fell for you again
I didn't want to
I knew I shouldn't
But I couldn't resist you
As always
Why am I so weak
To fall for the words
I know aren't anything
Not worth my time
My energy
I deleted eighty percent
Of whatever happened
From my drunken brain
My phone
But I remember
I wished you a
"Mediocre New Year"
And with your responses
I was entrapped
Ensnared
And clothes came off
Prematurely with our words
And I kept telling you
"You're a bad idea"
You wanted pictures
I'm glad my friends
Didn't let me send
Because I want love
And you want lust
Last night
I think I pretended
I wanted it too
But I don't
"I shouldn't want you"

dear self
please forget his sweet smile.

please forget the crinkle
and that slight twinkle in his eyes
remove his back profile (that you seem to always search for)
erase his melancholic voice away
let his existence fade from your heart

oh self,
he was never meant to stay.

remember
he is just another transient being
and his radiance is only a mere reflection
of the One.

please stop romancing cutting,
depression, eating disorders,
anxiety and suicidal thoughts.
those things are not beautiful.

it is not beautiful waking up
every morning wishing you
weren't here.

it is not beautiful having to wear
long sleeves in the summer to
cover up the scars on your arms.

it is not beautiful throwing up
in the toilet just so you don't
gain another pound.

it is not beautiful missing school
for a month just because you
couldn't drag yourself out of bed
to see daylight.

but you can be beautiful with
cuts and scars all over your body.

and you can be beautiful even though
you aren't too happy about your weight.

oh, and you're still beautiful if you haven't
socialized with people for a couple weeks.

and you're still beautiful even though you
blew out your 16th birthday candles wishing
you were dead.

you're beautiful, but the things that you have done to
your body aren't.

Tonight I thought about
pushing the accelerator to the floor
And turning the wheel hard
the roads were icy
and I was already going pretty fast
it would have been easy
to blame the weather
instead of me
but I kept the wheel straight
I'm not sure why

i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.