StressedWalrus

although it is pretty dramatic, i find it to be especially accurate.

because what am i doing if not tearing my skin open when I lay on your chest.

what am i enacting, if not slowly pouring my organs out in front of you one by one, when you play with my hand so gently.

as your fingers dance across my knuckles I offer my stomach.

as your glide your nails through my hair I give my liver.

as your palm cups my face I dig out my kidneys.

what else can I say, when i tear my heart from its cavity and hold it out to you, other than, "I need you"

...

and what can I do when you leave?

when my innards lay where you once were, staining my sofa without a recipient.

when my heart sits cold in my palm, a lonely beat.

it started as a joke, but the more I said it the more true I realized it was.

i would dig my nails deep until red bloomed beneath them,

i would pull until the pain shot through me like ice,

i would separate flesh and bone, blood and skin,

and lay bare in front of you, my veins and muscles aching in the cold air,

instead of watching the memories like a movie gone by, I inspect every detail meticulously, looking for what went wrong.

when I was at your appartment, did you hate that I ate your cereal?

when we kissed, did you hate that my breath tasted like ciggarettes?

when you said you liked my hands on your back, did they feel cold?

i hope it was something small like that.

eating your cereal.

bad breath.

cold hands.

otherwise, what can i think?

what can I imagine, except there must be something wrong with me?

like a kiss of fresh morning air on your skin, cold in your lungs.

she radiated, in a way ill never understand or come to see again.

even on that day, burns on your arms and bags under your eyes, i etched every scar and shadow deep into my memories.

i often wish i could go back.

to tell myself that would be the last time i would see you.

so that i could memorize every detail even more.

so i could say sorry.

your eyes were sunken in.

your cheeks were hollow

you looked pale.

you looked sick.

I wish I was good enough to heal you,

i imagined you at my wedding, and mine at yours.

i thought i could pinpoint when that bond broke. maybe it was the night i fell asleep in my car. but i can see now the pattern in the rubble, bits and pieces flaked off before the inevitable crumble.

when i sobbed throught the night and i know you heard, you said nothing

when i disappeared to the train tracks, longing for the taste of steel, you did nothing

when i came back, wanting anything from you, you looked at me like i was nothing.

i can only imagine that now that we have nothing to do with eachother, you feel nothing.

were you angry with me? for what i had done?

when you wouldnt look me in the eye, when you would treat me as a mess of a girl who you hate to clean up after, when i cried and choked and no one listened but everyone heard,

do you remember those nights?

i taught you to skateboard on the street i grew up on.

we laid on the pavement, staring at the stars, pretending life was simple.

i remember those nights.

how cruel that the stars dont shine in this town anymore, the lights cover them up.

how cruel that my skateboard sits in my parents garage, unused.

unconditional never meant forever

it only meant without condition.

so when my mouth runs dry

and your words run out