take these memories; give me back my moments 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you drive past a convertible as candy apple red as mine? how we used to drive around for hours; music blaring, clearing our minds, fingers intertwined. getting lost and pulling into abandon parking lots at 2am. do you see my seat covers and remember our arguments? over whether mcdonalds or burger kings fries are better. or whose turn it was to drive home. 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you hear my music? the songs i forced you to listen to? the songs you became familiar with as i became familiar with your body? do you stumble across an underground rapper and want to tell me about them? or miss me texting you lyrics at 7am? along with words of encouragement when you needed an extra push. do you ever look up to the stands and look for my smile? 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when she whispers in your ear? or as she bites her lips and fulfills all my promises to you? can you still taste my lips and smell my perfume? i bet she does things that remind you of me, but i hope she doesnt  do them as well. when you lock yours with those chocolate eyes, do you ever see mine? my big brown eyes looking up at you, gleaming because youre mine. youd always be mine. or so we thought. 

do you think of me? 

do you think its me when you get a call at 3am? barely able to speak but clear enough to remind you how in love with you i am? do you ever get worried that i am lost again? or falling in parking lots on clear august nights? when you see a girl throwing back shots do you remember the times i tried to out drink you but ended up swaddled in your arms. does it bother you that you are no longer my midnight kiss? or the arms i run into? do you realize im no longer there? 

i think of you. 

i think of you when the lights turn down. i think of how calm your hands felt trying to steady mine. i think of your smell, even though i washed it away months ago. i think of you when he kisses my neck. and him. and him. i look for you in the drivers seat of every grey truck passing by. i think about our snapchats, our songs, our jokes, our words, our love. i think of you when people tell me im too much. i think of how many times you told me you didn’t hate me, that you never could.  i still think about texting you. i still think you were the best thing to ever happen to me. 

i think about trading all our memories for our moments back. 

Goodbye Stars

So much emotion went into this last year. Its crazy for me to think about my growth and that while I still havent found love Ive found healthier heartaches to bitch about.

centaurus A

*Names have been changed out of respect for the parties involved

Roughly a year ago I began casually chatting people online, basically out of boredom. That’s when I came across this southern boy my age that lived about four states away. His name was Kevin*. In the beginning we started talking as friends. To be completely honest, at this point in my life I had things going on that I didn’t want in the open. It was surprisingly easy to confide in someone who had no way to spill my secrets! Kevin and I were there for each other; it was like he filled a void in my life. Most of the time I would talk and he would listen. We grew up in the same situations, had the same ideals and most importantly believed in eachother when no one else would. Shortly after we became inseparable Kevin admitted to…

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“nothing else matters now youre not here. so where are you? i been callin you. i been missin you.”
i think about you. more than i should. i miss the taste of your words and the feel of your t-shirts againts my bare skin. ive called. but i think that im scared to hear your voice again. when the richness runs into my ears it will swallow my heart again. i cant miss you anymore. 

“where else can i go? chasing you?” 

i know your knees tremble when youre nervous. and you sleep on your left side. i know you cried after your mom drove off and how little credit you give yourself. i dont need to chase you, you live inside my head. i packed your bags awhile ago. i think its time for you to leave. 

“memories turn to dust. please dont bury us. i got you.” 

i dont remember who i was before i was yours. but i know that you were never mine. i tucked each word you gave me into a sacred cabinet. cherished. because it was from you. because it was ours. but in reality you didnt care to remember a single sentence i gave you. i got you. for months i had you. i built your ego and encouraged your talent. i brought you out of your shell. and you gave me sweet nothings and broken promises. 

“i aint runnin from myself no more. im ready to face it all” 

im tired. im tired of missing the love that i slaved over. the work i put in. the time i wasted. when did i start fighting for you? you fought to keep me. thats how we started. before i let you take the lead. im tired of putting you ahead of myself. its time i took charge of my life, without you. because i know that i am worth fighting for. and that i dont want to fight to be yours anymore. i want to be mine. 

“if i lose myself i lose it all” 

when you left i didnt lose you. i lost myself. i will never allow that happen again. 

(lyrics accredited to Naughty Boy, Beyoncé & Arrow Benjamin “Runnin'”)  

daisy buchannon

the flowers are dead.

the flowers died along with your relationship. they withered and they crumbled as his voice grew distant and his patience grew thin. he no longer wants you. the flowers no longer want to live.

the daises were white. free. oblivious to beauty they brought to the world.  your love was red. powerful. as passionate as two sweaty teenagers fumbling around in the back seat of a car for the first time. when simply your thoughts of each other were strong enough to fog up the windows. your promises rolling off his tongue, his hands grasped the back of your head, your hearts beating in unity: because your souls merged into one. he became apart of you. you needed him to be stable, the way flowers need soil to grow. while you were connected to someone permanently you’ve never felt more  free; more oblivious to the world around you. you have never felt more like the daises.

the flowers did not die peacefully. they withered slowly and painfully. their stems sunk in with your cheeks, they lost their shine like he lost the light in his eyes when someone said your name, the petals could no longer hold on in the breeze of the slamming doors or you running away from each other problems. the soil dried up and all the tears you shed over him couldn’t return it to its rich state. you stopped appreciating the daises, you stopped asking him about his day, he stopped telling you good morning. as the daisies went grey your love went black. the damage was irreparable. the color was lost.

as the flowers grew weaker you attempted to save them. your tried to dig them up and replant them, you begged him to come lay in your bed and forget about the fighting. forget about the other girl. you tried to talk the flowers into holding on, you tried to remind him what he first saw in you. but you had ditched the soil that you grew together in, in a final attempt to save the wreckage. he was already gone and the flowers could not reestablish their roots.

how did you let something as simple and brilliant as love slip through your fingers? how did you manage to ruin the only person strong enough to attempt to rebuild the ruins that have been collecting dust inside you? how did you run off the sunshine bringing you the nutrients you needed to grow? why didn’t you try to water his love before it was too late? why are you still attempting to dig up your past lover? when will you understand that no matter how hard you try, his seeds will no longer grow for you? that his seeds are no longer yours to plant?

i dont know. i just know the flowers are dead.



i dont feel sad

i feel used.

its like im constantly being used. the only reason im replenished is so they have a shoulder to cry on. so that they have a warm body next to them. i think i set myself up to be used. i give myself to the wrong people. the only person at blame for that is myself. i dont know why every one i give myself to lies to me. they promise to change themselves. to change me.  promise that they’ll stay. lie to me than lie with me; to get their fix. giving up little pieces of yourself starts to add up. i just want my pieces back. please make me feel whole again. i dont think this cycle will end.

i feel angry.

its like im up to my ears in madness. am i mad or have i gone mad? the only person i dont like is myself. im full of regrets. the skeletons in my closet keep adding up and i cannot keep that door shut. i place so many locks on the goddamn door but somehow the spirits of my past come out to play every night. they rattle my head as i toss and turn begging for just five minutes of emptiness. five minutes of sleep. leave me alone, let me sleep. please let me sleep. i dont wanna be angry anymore.

i feel guilty.

lately ive been missing so many pieces of myself i don’t know where to begin. its like someone took an axe and began chipping away at my ego. my happiness. my self esteem. my soul. i fight like hell to get them to stop. who could be doing this to me? who hates me so much that theyre willing to tear me down? its then when i realize… that its me. im sabotaging myself.

i feel unattached.

its like i cant connect. i just dont care. i couldnt care less actually. and that bothers me. why am i so heartless? why am i so hateful? why does nothing please me anymore? my laughs are hallow, my smiles are empty. who am i? im walking this earth like nothing is wrong with me. why dont i tell anyone how badly it hurts? when will i stop lying? am i really that shameful of my pain that i have to handle it alone? yes. because theres nothing wrong with me. promise.

i feel stupid.

i know the past is the past. im trying to leave it behind. why cant it do the same? why wont my nightmares just go away? stop reminding me of how hurtful words can be. but every time i look in the mirror im reminded of how much ive failed. how i cant do anything right. im so desperate. im so pathetic. why do i do this to myself. just stop. stop eating. stop talking. stop thinking about it all. when will my scars fade? i dont want to look at them anymore. they make me hate myself. i swear to god im trying so hard to forgive you. but i dont know how.

“the thing no one tells you about being fucked up; it has nothing to do with being sad.”

The Evolution of My Heart

I placed my unconditional heart in the hands of a boy who bit his lips and spoke like the stars. He kept it in the front poket of his t-shirt, moments away from his own. There were points throughout that gentle year I tried to steal back the gift I had given him, but he’d reassure me that it was safe. After countless hours of open conversation and seeing a light in anothers eyes when they looked at my dull heart, I decided it was no longer mine. Because it belonged to him. 

But the days carried on and when his words turned to knives Ifought desperately to get back what was mine. He slammed the doors so hard my ribcage rattled, and I first felt the realness of the hole in my chest, where my heart was missing. When he threw our memories into the river, he tossed my heart along with them. I spent days tryingto fish out the broken pieces of my soul, but nearly half of them were lost forever.

 I pieced my heart back together with concrete blocks and mortar. I refilled the missing pieces with steel rods and titanium screws. I promised myself that I would be more careful with who I let in. But the silver could not replace the gold thread that once stitched my heart togther. I thirsted for those sweet nothings that had once been whispered in my ear. I tried to place my broken heart in the hands of tall boys with soft lips in hopes that they could fix me. But they wanted nothing to do with the parts of me that didn’t taste like a vodka bottle. 

I sat back and watched boys try to crack the code on the chains that weighed down my self esteem and fueled my trust issues. I begged them to stop but they promised me I was special. They promised that if I gave them the keys it would be worth it, that they would hold my hand while I started to heal. They lied. 

I gave pieces of my heart to boys with overdue library books and chiseled jaws. I threw my loving heart around, begging any drunken boy to see something great about it, like my first love had. I have not been so lucky. I am starting to think that no one will ever see past the cracks again. In fact, I am tired of bringing my frail heart out of her cage just to be rejected time after time.