i love you but, i bought a house and forgot (i mean didn't) tell you, and also, i love you but, i didn't ask you to the dance. i love you but, she left her panties at my place. i love you but, i can't call you (i won't call you) i love you but, i never bought you a christmas present. i love you but, i can't be with you (because im stuck) i love you but, im too busy. too hurt. too. i love you but, i dont like touching you and why don't you do the dishes. i love you but, i don't want to kiss you. i love you but, im leaving because i care about you. i love you, but you're not invited, because you're not allowed to come (because she will be there and obviously we're fucking and how come you didn't see it) i love you but you're too much. i love you but, you need too much (even though you never asked for anything) i thought i knew what love was i thought i did, but maybe i just know what it isnt.
some days i almost slip up,
type i love you in the text box,
but i already know that would be
too, too much for you right now
so i just tell you,
that i care about you so much
and to drink your water
and to have good day
because i guess i dont
have to say the words
for you to feel it.
gray eyes, soft like a old sweatshirt you wear to football games and for curling up on the couch in the rain. gray like the rain falling from the sky warm like the sun, shining on top of a mountain just before noon. gray the haze over the sea, wispy fog drifting through the overpass gray like the softest parts of the night. gray has never been so beautiful to me.
i parked my car in the driveway,
but i didn’t leave room for your truck.
i swept my floor, because it was dirty.
i did my dishes, because i needed to.
shaved my legs.
i like lotion, i tell myself.
i cleaned the toilet, and the sink.
for myself, i lie.
at least when i am sad, in an hour,
when you don’t show up, again,
at least my space will be a comforting space.
i didn’t match my shirt to my pants.
i didn’t change the sheets. yet.
maybe i should.
for myself, you know.
i wonder how long i should be graceful,
in this mysterious calamity that has befallen me.
somedays i want to be the volcano
burying you with my fury,
burning you with the anger,
but instead i am nothing more than
a mild breeze trifling through the leaves.
if you get tired of running, come lay with me. let me love you until you don't remember what this pain was.
I guess I must have dumbass
tattooed across my forehead.
I asked you 1,242 times if you loved me
and 1,242 times you swore you did.
I said I’d never beg to be loved again,
but I guess instead I chose to settle
for 3 hours of laughter
and a 3 hour drive.
I chose someone who wouldn’t chose me.
How the fuck does that feel?
We circled the drain,
fuck if it wasn’t clogged the fuck up,
but we slipped down anyway.
I slipped into madness,
and you slipped into forgetfulness.
Forgot you loved me.
Forgot you missed me.
Forgot I was your fucking girlfriend.
I asked for what I needed,
and in the end what I needed,
was just a peace out, see you later,
except later was just bullshit,
just like our relationship.
i say i love you.
i say it in that way that
gives you permission not
like maybe its a joke,
or you’re just a friend,
or maybe you did something
nice and it’s just a thank you.
i say i love you.
aftertaste like burnt cheese
stuck to the roof of your mouth,
hot fire you can’t spit out.
i push down all those
do you love me too?
can you just tell me
that you want me.
i pretend like i’m not insecure
even though i look in the mirror
and i fucking hate that girl
with the shit brown eyes
and the fucked up hair.
i hate her so fucking much.
i know what they say,
i know what i say,
but it’d feel so good just to
hear you say it.
just once –
i love you.
i love you so much.
you move the fuck away
and here i am,
writing shitty poems
wishing i was wrapped up
in you like the night sky
says goodnight to the earth.
I sat in the water today,
staring at my Instagram picture,
wondering how long it’ll be
before I believe that caption
“love yourself so much,
that mirror never stands a chance”
but I’m like fuck.
So I buy ten buck lace lingerie
thinking maybe he’ll tell me
he loves me,
but it’s just another disappointment
I look at that girl in those pictures
making weird faces and
I don’t know who the fuck that is.
Can that really be me?
Is she confident?
Or just fucking stupid.
Just fucking stupid,
it’s fucking terrifying –
this thing with you.
“what are you sorry for”
“it’s not your fault”
and you have no