fiveoclockblue

You sent her to her knees as if you were a god who needed praising It's too bad advantage isn't all you took of her Besides her innocence, her self respect, her dignity You stripped her of her friends Told her to choose them or you After convincing her she was nothing without you So I guess it's no wonder that you became her everything While she remained your nothing Just a marionette to manipulate Just a hole to fuck Well she was more than that to me Yet after you she was just a shell of her former self You were the first but not the last in a long line of men who used her But you set the precedent And I blame you Although

I can see into my future five years give or take graduating from backseats to cheap apartments and sleazy motel rooms seeking refuge in the arms of strangers making the mistakes of my foremothers filling a void to fill a void but each affair will leave me more empty than the last unable to afford love so I'll settle for the knock off hoping body heat may thaw my frozen heart but the feeling of lonely penetrates deeper than any lover can reach and each night it burrows in a little further making a home in my middle until I become pregnant with the emptiness I hope to tie a lover down with umbilical cords and

Running fingers over flesh Reading the brail of your skin, spelled out in scars and imperfections Telling the stories of a life Battered knees speaking of the childhood cut short Stretch marks showing the way you grew up to fast and the way it tore you apart Bumps where bones tried to mend themselves From back in the days when asking for help was forbidden Because it meant admitting there was a problem Scars from old wounds excused by falls and accidents A narration of a time before he learned to hurt you where no one else could see Your body whispering tales of the nights you scrubbed skin raw Trying to wash off his fingerprints

Your mood is like the weather Always changing when we're together Because I bring out the hurricane in you And I'm never sure what I'm supposed to do Board up my windows or seek high ground Yet your storm is the only comfort I've found Because I know the skies will clear Although sometimes your sunshine is undeniable I know the forecast is unreliable So I pack an umbrella, just in case And although sometimes it's told on your face Your mood cannot be predicted or measured It's not a question of temperature or barometric pressure It's a question of feeling I can tell when you're hot and I know when your cold I know when to seek

Heartbreak leaves blood stains Your absence is hunger pains Needing means less than wanting But I hope you won't think less of me You see, loving is one of those dumb things you do The harder you're trying not to I'm trying not to love you But I struggle This desire is problematic Since my love for you is automatic It's like trying not to breathe And it always ends in gasping Crave hands clasping Lips locking Hearts stopping Because it's enough to kill And I'm afraid of the promises unmade That I already refuse to believe And I question the words unsaid Because I assume you want to deceive Experience has taught me that pe

I could candy coat the razorblades to make them more appealing I could shoot you with some Novocain to modify the feeling But who am I to tell you to choose my way of dealing? And who are you to tell me That I'm handling my misery improperly? Ignorant, please take a seat Consider this your education You tell me I have a problem, well we've established that My body shows the scars of solitary combat And when you see them you're removed from your ignorant bliss With a look of horror and disgust you ask me why I'd do this But when I give you the explanation; it's self preservation A way of dealing with isolation and frustration It

On Halloween I wore a big sign that said, "No." And people would stop and ask me, "What the hell are you supposed to be?" And I'd solemnly reply, "Rejection," Because that's the scariest thing of all.

High school sweethearts, like you see in movies, Trading letterman's jackets and class rings. They're perfect, the pair everyone envies, Holding hands and whispering sweet nothings. They dream about their future together, Sharing sunsets and milkshakes and laughter. Both unsure of what their love can weather But hope for happily ever after. Parents speak of marriage, a church wedding, Of grandchildren and white picket fences, But what if this dream isn't their heading? They wish to love without consequences. But this doubt they have, they'll keep denying. For now they'll imagine love's undying.

We have been filling our distended bellies with too many stars. Too much passion and not enough hope, so careless hands always seem to break us. Leave us with black holes forming beneath our ribcages, licking at the ends of our lungs and hearts. So it's no wonder we always feel a little nauseous, a little unable to breathe like we are drowning in brackish oceans. It's no wonder we forget these words. These shoulder blades, wrists, elbows, cheekbones, jaws. This beauty like the red bend of apples or the insides of bottom lips, peeling away to reveal small, black matchstick legs that will one day ignite like faith. Like the self-worth our stoma