#2015poems

1: You'll probably spend every Halloween remembering the way his blue contacts stole your drunken body, and you'll contemplate whether monsters lie in people until you're not sure if you are one of them. Don't let this be your reason to cry. 2: Opening your skin and bleeding out your emptiness is ineffective and, trust me, your mother would rather send you off to college with a million dollars worth of debt in her name than she would ever be able to stand the idea of seeing you in a casket. 3: Sometimes the stars and moon align together to illuminate your worth all over your walls; remember that you are more than a curvy body and undone literature essays. Love yourself, love yourself, love yourself.

When I was little, I thought that the moon was home to all my fallen loved ones, and every time it illuminated my mother's car window they were trying to say they were there. But in seventh grade astronomy, my teacher sent me to the nurse after telling us the moon is actually a companion to earth. And it made me so sad that I actually screamed, because I, too, know what it's like to live next to those you love the most and to never feel the same love you give out returned. But unlike the moon I am not beautiful, I do not illuminate. I'm more like a black hole, imploding into myself until I am no longer existing.

Falling out of love with you was so beautifully hard, it took me months to realize that you never actually left a gaping black hole in the middle of my soul. And I think while I realized you were a chapter, you realized I was a different kind of novel that made you enjoy reading when you used to spend high school ditching English class and getting high. But I didn’t wanna spend my years wasting away on someone who doesn’t realize how beautiful I am to deserve every ounce of effort they have. I seemed to have forgotten that you gave up on me first.

And sometimes my heart produces a hurricane of emotion that storms over into a flood from my eyes, and sometimes I get yelled at because I want to visit you at all the wrong times. I've been told you were taken for a reason; that God wanted you in heaven to protect us all. And I wish you could understand the irony of the sky mourning for your loss on your birthday, because I feel I was never allowed to mourn at all.

I discovered that Disney had it all wrong when I realized I was in love with you. My heart was burnt out on the bathroom floor and, between hiccuping sobs, my mind kept telling me hesperfecthesperfecthesperfect and I went to bed with a pounding headache in your sweater, trying to pretend it was your arms around me. And for a while it was. And I loved you I loved you I loved you. But I hated you. Disney had it all wrong: love doesn’t wake you up from the poisoned apples of fate; it doesn’t give you happiness out of a broken home with two horses and a chariot to marriage. Love destroys you until you’re awake at 2 in the morning and the only thing you write in the spaces of your homework is hisnamehisnamehisname.

I think I lost myself in between the moans and our last goodbyes and I’m not sure of the difference between heaven and your eyes, or if there’s a difference at all and I didn’t know loving you would’ve hurt this bad or involved all this pain or all the time I’ve spent on searching for different inhalation tricks to exhale you out system, I loved you i loved you I loved you

When you left, all 206 fragile bones in my body shattered and I swear to God, I stopped hearing my heart beat; but it took me four months and three lines of cocaine to remember the night you didn’t hold me after you fucked me. I think that’s when I started to love myself.

I’ve lost my mind and all I need is to know you’ll still be here when I finally find it