0

just lie to me.

Just one more fuck up.
Tell me one more lie –
I’ll believe it.
You don’t even know.
You don’t even know.
I’ll fake it so good.
You won’t even know,
that I know,
that you’re lying.
Tell me you want me.
Tell me how beautiful I am
with these goddamn tears
dripping from my eyes.
Touch me like it’s the first time.
Touch me like you want me,
forever and fucking always.
For the love of God,
lie to me, please.
Hold me so tight,
that I’ll believe you won’t leave.
Lie to me so good.
Swear, I’ll believe it.
Take me.
Take all of me.
Take my things.
Just please, don’t leave.
Stay.
Please stay.

Advertisements
0

wanted.

i think the thing
that is most impressive,
is that someone who knew me
for only four hours,
knew me better than you
and you had six years
of mornings and nights.
maybe he’s just another
goodbye to make me cry,
but i’ll be damned
if he didn’t kiss me
like he meant it.
and maybe he was lying,
just to get me naked,
but he’d already stripped me
with my clothes on.
funny how words can
take the clothes off your soul.
he didn’t even know
how he was holding me together,
like you never fucking did.
just met, yet,
he told me i was funny.
and fucking adorable.
he wanted to touch me.
how fucking cool is that?
he.
wanted.
to.
touch.
me.
he knew i wanted him to kiss me,
i didn’t have to fucking beg.
or ask.
or cry for it.
he said he saw it in my face,
wonder then –
how many times did you see that look
and just turn the fuck away?
everytime i find myself missing you,
and hurting and aching,
i just remind myself of that last time,
standing in the fucking driveway,
begging you to fucking kiss me.
and you didn’t.
that was the last time you didn’t,
but it wasn’t the first time.
so fuck you.
i hope he’s good guy,
but even if he turns out
to be a complete fucking dick,
he made me feel wanted.
and that’s all i wanted.
it’s all i’ve ever wanted.

0

unfinished.

i have not, in quite some time,
want to drag a blade across my skin
as much as tonight.
It is the third day of being twenty-seven,
and I thought by now this ache
would have been dulled, faded, gone even.
I hate this quiet.
I hate the way I need someone to fill this space,
that sits so empty beside me.
Mostly, mostly I’m exhausted,
so tired of holding myself together.
Juggling pieces so they don’t shatter,
overstretching, bending at odd angles,
just so I can show the world how strong I am.
Illusions only last so long,
just band-aids on a gaping wound.

0

clean.

they see my trash piled up,
spilling its insides to the floor;
my endless stacks of paper,
teetering, toppling, towering;
they look at me and say
“you must not care –
about anything.”
the weight of their words
crush me into the wall
i’ve built for myself.
their disgust buries me,
like the floor,
and i make some excuse,
something about time
and other things,
my brain is screaming,
i’m so overwhelmed.
they’ll leave,
and i’ll clear a space
to hold myself
and rock and rock and rock
until the next person
comes to say,
“you must not care –
about anything.”

0

nostalgia.

I let myself miss you tonight;
for a fleeting moment I remembered
the you that you were
when I loved you the most,
not this being that you became;
I catch glimpses of you,
sometimes while I’m out.
I can see you in the bookstore,
on the couch, on a side street;
it’s just a memory,
you aren’t really there;
just a vague nostalgia
that leaves me with the taste of history.
I hope you are well,
be well, stay well,
wherever you are,
in whatever you do.
I hope that once in a while,
you might think of me too,
just for a fleeting moment,
I hope you miss me,
just like I miss you.