#102315

At home, the man who loves her weeps as she mops her wood floor with gasoline. When she is finished, she presses a kiss against his forehead and a matchbook into his hands. As the flames grow her monsters peel away from the trees to circle the hut, ignoring the man who stands vigil. The woman sits down in the smoking doorway and smiles.

"I didn't want to say you found this particular secret blog, When I knew you had already seen my sex poem, Funny how you wouldn't let me finish, But you're okay to read yours About having sex with other girls, And how I'm the horrible ex poems, Because I didn't want you to know I have two. Because I have two outlets, And you may have found one But being only one isn't the number I felt When you're still calling me on my cellphone last year, Texting me and trying to just get under my belt, When really you were more like an IV Than a fuckboy. Because I would feeling you pinching my skin as you entered with one text, Ripping open my body, And forcing yourself into me, my bloodstream, Making me light headed and on a small high, I thought you were pumping vitamins and fluids, And things that were fucking healthy for me. I didn't know you were drawing blood instead. Being 4'9", I can't donate more than 1/4 of a bag. You knew that. But yet, this big ass needle with your name on it Took two, Not one, But two. Two whole bags of things that were me, Two whole bags of my life drained out of this tiny hole, This tiny hole named "yes" Because I would say, "yes I'll come." "Yes he still loves me." "Yes he wants me." "Yes." I said it to you. You would drain me, Pinch me as you left me, Leaving me sore and sometimes make me bleed while in distress, That not even a bandaid couldn't fix Because I would be a mess After you left. You took my blood and donated it to a cause that caused my downfall. And the whole entire time I thought we were falling for each other again, But you had girls on the side, fucking me, Fucking them, trying to be my friend... It was fucked up. And I know you don't want me back, But when you see this, Please don't hate me. For being able tot write. You have helped me find this. I didn't want to let you know that there could be a darker side of me, I didn't know which one you saw, But after the word synchronization, I'm not a idiot; I knew it. But I didn't ask you to write about relit cigarettes and all the shit, Those are your own feelings. You also don't want me back. I didn't tell you I have two because if you could only hear the thoughts in my head, I'm crazy, I dont want you to read the raw footage instead I let you read the prettier way of saying. I didn't tell you I have two because What gets more vulnerable than this." -you know 8:42am

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