paIn.

its falling in love with heartbreak. because when he kissed my neck the gun pressed against my temple didnt feel so cold. he held my hand while he filled the syringe, swallowing the needle in pools of insults. insulting every variance that made me, me. not before long i learned to shoot the poison into my own veins. sharing his needles, willing to openly inject his pain in between my toes. as my heart exploded i smiled, threw my head back in ecstasy. the night i decided to get sober he held a pillow over my face. love is suffocating my soul, and i love it.

its all five stages of grief at once. bitter streaks of anger dancing around a cloud of denial. i closed my eyes and ran the knife across my throat, out of sight out of mind. swearing on my brothers grave that i will get help tomorrow, pretending i can walk away at any time. offering the soul of my mother in exchange for my freedom. waking up early every day to fertilize a field of blossoming daises, knowing that nothing will ever grow inside me. being beaten by hatred and consoled by emptiness. accepting that if this is all life has to offer, i  don’t want to be apart of it anymore.

its drowning in your own bed. the darkness of 4am rubs my back and crawls up my nose. i carved out my rational mind to build her a home between my eyes. she whispers. always whispering. making promises she cant keep. i believed her assuring me there is beauty in pain; as the weight of the water slowly crush my ribs. even when my eyes are open im bathing in black. inhaling water is peaceful. the rush of tears into my lungs numbed her voice. the bottom of the ocean is cold, it is empty. those who sit on the floor sit alone. i thanked the man who risked his life to save me, but hated him for not letting my drown.

its liberating. its uncertainty. its morbid. watching an abused wife pull the trigger; finally releasing her husbands hands from her neck. the day your rapist is sentenced to life in prison, the day your dad is put on parole. shaking the hand of the man who beat your sister to death. acing the test you studied for. anorexia during thanksgiving. storming out of a room and being chased by the love of your life. holding pieces of your lovers skull in your hands. swearing you can change the devil. never having to wake up. all at the same time.

its realizing that she lied. there is no beauty in pain.

i miss it every day 

addicted. 

words. 

dripping like a smoothe choclate glaze. smothering the cracks of a soul that broke itself in order to let the light in. the thickness desperately seeping into each crevice and declaring it his home. i thought the darkness would rock me to sleep. occupy my mind long   enough to put me to rest. have you ever witnessed the fluidity of sweet promises crystalizing peace into a mind gone mad? its comforting. but the drizzles did not work for me. instead it scratched out the childlike hope in my veins and replaced it with

black. 

like my lashes. i painted each one like velvet. perfection. as black as the ice of a winters night that thrills from the screams of its victims before the sun gets a chance to shine. jet black veils shading the holes within my face. covering the galaxies from gazing upon themself. i allowed them to glisten but never rain. never cry. when my demons were fed stars danced within my pupils. however the stars were not light. they were reflections from years ago. reminding me of the wrong and the unjust. the joyful memories that used to dwell there turned to combustion and dust. they 

collapsed. 

the chip on my shoulder became hands steadily wrapped around my neck as i clawed for air. but neatly hope sat in the back of my head, that he would clench his fist and finally release me from this shell. my mind sat like an abandoned bee hive craving the crazed buzzing noises of thoughts and revelations. craving the voices of stangers of friends of lovers. i sat in silence. i sat on my knees glaring out a window calling to anyones God, if Hes out there, please send me a shooting star. all i want is one goddamn wish to bring myself back. i just want to be happy again. God please let me be happy again. im 

begging. 

like an exhausted foot tapping i sat impatiently waiting for his arrival. to feel the oblivion of a fix. to be swaddled in the arms of myself before my flaws were stitched into my sleeves. when they left me on empty i lashed out. broke hundreds of memories, shattered every bridge i attempted to save. punched holes in the walls and kicked and screamed until they had to forcibly remove me from their lives. i did not go down easy. like a hell bent son defending his father i stood by my happinesses side. refusing to let go of his hand, even when it was only in my

imagination. 

every part of me is empty. is bitter. is angry. but i like to pretend that it isnt. i trace the smiles of my peers across my lips and lace my hair with bright colored flowers and bountiful curls. i speak softly. i speak rationally. i use the white streaks of the lightening electrifying the storms inside me to light a fire. a fire that lights up the words “denial” and “hopeless” and “save this fucking ship” across my face like the las vegas strip. but unlike the boulevard no one reads my signs. i do not have time to read them aloud. no one comes to save me after ive hung my face out to dry. in the blissfulness of night when chills run up my spine and the darkness opens his doors to let me back inside. he smells like coffee. god i love coffee.  maybe i am in denial. maybe my soul is black and my mind has collapsed and im just begging for something for someone to see past the imaginary image ive projected of myself. but maybe it doesnt matter. because these are nothing more than 

words. 

“whether its drugs, booze, sex, religion or hope. we’re all addicted to something” 

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.