You drive me up the walls
but you are also the one who makes sure I get down safely
there is nothing in this world
that you hate more than me
it is easy for you to tear me apart
and even easier to act like it was my fault
you hurt me and change your story at the last minute
but you are not all bad are you
your eyes are not always black
sometimes they are a seducing sweet brown
your hands are not always rough
in fact, sometimes they are softer than my own
when they touch me we know
we know deep down you love me as much as you hate me

Every time you undress me
the tips of your fingers slit into my skin,
with only a simple slide of your hand you can open my chest and kidnap my heart.
I was alive with the sting of your touch but over time the sting became a burn,
and I started to find that you prefer to retrace the expeditions that both your hands and your eyes would endure.
You don’t think twice about reopening scars,
in fact you feel obligated to purposely disfigure me,
even if I could leave you it is your name that covers my body.
You wanted to see how far I’d let you take it, how much of me you could take over
you controlled my life and even my thoughts
somehow you became a part of who I was,
and no matter how simple it could be
I can no longer imagine surviving without you.

Today I ran down the same hallways
I've been avoiding my whole life.
The same halls that had plagued me with
tunnel vision every time you would walk
past me and pretend I wasn't there.

I no longer
like the taste
of stained sarcasm
on your tongue
or the smell of
fire
burning my lungs
while you bury me
beneath your arms

I am empty handed when it comes to us
you leave me deprived of simple human respect
the way you talk to me
you never listen
I know that you are lying when you say you love me
love is not arrogant
the only person you love is yourself
I am only a trophy on your shelf
you take me out when you want to look at me or show me off
but when you are done you put me away
you have adjusted me to revolve around you
you made sure to take every last piece of me when you left
with the intentions of hollowing out my heart
you truly have taken everything else along with it
leaving only a life void of meaning
and empty hands

I wish these feelings could fade away
in the same way you forgot my voice
over time and distance

I can’t remember what it felt like to feel anything at all
I don’t know how to change or love
I am transparent
unlike you I can not see colour
and I wouldn’t be surprised
if you told me you couldn’t see any in me either
It’s almost as if I am no longer me
but then again I can’t remember a me
all I can try to do is imagine myself as a contrast of the warmest reds
a girl who loves and was loved
someone who is not afraid to speak but instead screams until heard
I would have the smoothest skin except it would not be thin
nobody would hurt me
nobody would want to not even myself
there would be no scars of apology
I would not be sorry for being me I would instead embrace my life
but that is not me it is only my imagination

It is time to say goodbye,
to who I was,
to you and I.

Your strands are not soft or kind
they're brittle and gasoline coated
your ends do not descend gracefully
they are chopped into straight lines and cut my
fingers each time I touch
but it is your hair that blows in the lightest winds that I want
I love the smell of the thin black daggers
that surround your pale face
the aroma consumes me and I need my fix
nothing could suit you better or worse
than that rough hair you caught me staring at mid April
and I know my fingers could never pull the thick wet locks
behind my ears
but it is one thing to desire
and another to possess
I am content with my brown honey touched strands of silk
black has never looked good on me anyways

Some of your words
are stapled
into my skin,
correcting me in times of error

I would be lying
if I told you
that you were special to me,
because whether its
you
or
him
holding me in the earliest hours
of the morning
the only thing that matters to me
is that
I am being held,
love to me is much less
significant
much less personal
than it used to be
if its anything to me at all
its feeling desired

Watch your step on the way in, there are needles and knives
they'll pierce through your skin.
It may be dark, so hold my hand
and if you can, understand.
Step over my sorrows,
don't mind the shards,
while you're in here please,
disregard.
Your eyes will adjust,
you can see me now,
all the pieces of my heart, I just left around.
Drugs and liquor beside my bed,
but by the end of most nights,
only the thoughts are dead.
I become hesitant as I notice you judge,
"please don't begin to send your pity,
these feelings don't budge."
I suddenly remember why I've never had someone in this room,
for the longest time, it has only been my tomb.

I want to
carve
every single word
that rings through my head
down the softest parts of my skin,
so I can remember the painful silence
that first caused these words
to not only ring through my head
but course through my veins
the words that make me who I am
deserve to be displayed
to be read
and to be understood

This year I am bare
Not in flesh but in mind
You left with all of my thoughts
Any ounce of my motivation
Laying on my bathroom floor
I am bare
Some people would see this as an advantage
But pessimists will understand
How I’d like to lay here forever
With my hands covering my eyes I feel hidden from time
Like there is no one else in the world
I am alone
I am bare

You no longer burn my mind when I picture you.
The sound of your name doesn't exactly feel like anything anymore,
If anything it reminds me of a life I no longer live,
A person I am not.
On my island of seclusion
I wonder how there was a time I was not alone,
My fingers once were soft when intertwined with yours
But after handling your hatred and repulsion with bare hands the shards have left scars that do not fade
Sometimes I forget that you put them there,
That at one point you hurt me as much as I hurt myself.
On my island of seclusion
I forget faces and voices,
Not just yours, even my own
It seems that no one ever comes and I never go

I used to believe my arms were similar to water and that eventually whoever I wrap them around for comfort would run out of breath. I knew that once they go up for air they would forget to come back for me. It is true I have been drowning for what feels like forever but now I know after years of being under that I am not the water and I never will be. I am not free flowing and my hands are not the ones slipping stones into pockets. I've realized that it is me who has run out of breath  it is me who has steel shoes and over time I have become so desperate for someone to untie the laces that I trust anyone that dives into the water.

Music is the only thing
that makes sense anymore
its the only way
I can describe to you
the darkest parts of me
the texture of broken glass
encasing my heart
its the only way
you can feel the wires wrapped
around my lungs
feel the fire burning through my veins
lately
its been the only way
I can feel anything at all