WE DON’T USE DIARIES ANYMORE
THOSE ARE MEANT FOR SECRETS
AND WE HAVE NONE.
we let them spill out our bodies
and pour onto blank white sheets.
ITS THE ONLY WAY TO HEAL.
we turn our pain into poetry.
something that hurts this much
has to mean SOMETHING.
and even though we are desperate
for anyone to listen
our love language is written in letters
we will NEVER SEND
we romanticize the pain
like it’s the ONLY lover we’ll ever know.
love is our god and we each our own devils
too fragile for this world,
ceremoniously destroying ourselves
BEFORE ANYONE ELSE CAN DO IT FOR US.
we still can’t seem to understand why we’re so broken.
i’ve always thought the starts shined brighter
when we were watching them.
it was our last night together
so we spent it outside,
in a tent full of 11 boy-crazed and awkward-phased middle school girls.
under the summer sky,
the starts fell that night.
this was an ode to us
because it was the end of an era.
IF YOU THINK THIS IS ABOUT YOU
IT PROBABLY IS.
it’s 3:42 am and i can’t sleep.
maybe it’s because of my test tomorrow?
maybe it’s the stress of college?
maybe it’s the flow of emotions constantly running though my mind?
maybe it’s the excitement of a new day?
maybe it’s the nonstop netflix i just can’t seem to turn off?
maybe it’s you?
no, its you.
it’s definitely you.
YOU KEPT ME UP EVERY DAMN NIGHT AND YOU KNOW YOU DID.
YOU LIKED THE ATTENTION.
NO, NOT LIKED
YOU LOVED THE ATTENTION.
YOU LOVED HURTING ME.
YOU LOVED THE WAY IT FELT TO LEAD ME ON DAY AFTER DAY, NIGHT AFTER NIGHT, TIME AFTER TIME.
but slowly the time ran out
and before you knew it
it was 3:43 am,
and i had moved on.