Looking at you is like looking in a mirror

Created in your image, all I see is how much I hate myself.

You get high, I get low

A projection of the revelation

Of never being good enough

No praises or hallelujahs in return

Only the silent realization that

You are no longer my confessional.

You may punish me with cold shoulders and

Excuses so rehearsed they resemble scripture

My truth remains

The all consuming fire has been put out

I am no longer a moth to your flame.

My mouth bends and forms, stretching to wrap around the soft delicacy that is your name.

How I love the sound when it comes out. The lingering feeling of sweet as my tongue curls to form the name that I want for breakfast, lunch, and dessert.

For you, my love, I have an insatiable sweet tooth.

They tell us in life all things must be enjoyed in moderation.

My desire for you is a never ending craving for a flavor I do not want to cleanse my pallet from.

I did not learn my lesson that with time all things sweet do eventually lose their luster.

I use to miss the way you taste but now my tongue turns sour at the memory of you.

"I am alone."

The words utter from your lips 

As if there were no one around to hear them

As if I were but a ghost

Transparent, transposable, translucent 

A once radiating light in your gaze

Just as soon to be dulled or turned down

A roaring crimson fire abalze

Just as soon to be suffocated or put out

Starved for oxygen in the way that I

am starved for any sense of purpose

When you tell me you are alone

As if I am simply not standing right in front of you

With this revelation

With this mile in your shoes

I find myself looking around only to realize

that I am alone too.

i am worth more than 

something

(about you)

makes me feel that

i am worth more than

this body

is not a home. 

sick about the way that

these veins are all open roads

vulnerable, fragile

the way that my heart feels

(about you)

i do not know 

how to form the words

without them coming out

like static electricity

coursing through 

never ending, it's never 

(about you) 

ending the way that 

i want it to be

(about you)

but it's supposed to be

about me

and how i am worth more

than just... being

about you.

your insecurities

are not mine to wear

yet I let them frame me

like scars of honor

I can only hope

that one day they fade.

I am not your flower

Yet you pluck my petals.

He loves me,

He loves me not.

You let them wilt

You dig me up

To drink the water

From my roots

What will it take to wake you?

Shake you

Break me

Can’t breathe

Longing

Never ending

I stare at you across the room

Though our eyes never meet,

I wish they would.

I urge you on,

Waiting most patiently

I am a slave to acknowledgment

The only thing to satisfy my appetite.

Though I am never rewarded,

Like a dog

I come crawling back for more

Because you can’t bite the hand that feeds you

..I can’t turn away.

The first bite I took from your hand

Was in fact just a seed

You disguised it

Planted it

This love has grown so strong I think I just might burst

Like a small boy outgrowing his winter coat

Though this pain is so much more than what the cold wind would bring

All I truly want is for you to wrap your arms around me

and tell me you love me again.

But you don’t,

and maybe you never did.

I cringe every time

I see you

I hear you

I feel you

..still

You adore her

in the same way

You once adored me

But these similarities

They don’t just lie in your heart

with the feeling of love

It’s in how you breathe

How you speak

Your laughter

When it fills the room,

I miss it

..I miss you.

It’s in these moments the most

that I realize

For you,

I was simply a test run,

never intended to keep.

I taught you

you taught me

..how a heart breaks.

The way you beckon her

the same as you once did for me

I know that when your lips meet,

She will be screaming out loud

all of the secrets that you made my lips keep

I cringe every time

You see me

You hear me

You feel me

Falter

..still

i'm up thinking about you again

writing about you again

but this isn't a poem

i'm not putting you in a poem

because you see the poems

they stem from the wounds

they stem from the darkness

and that's not you, is it my dear?

because when i look at you all i want to see

are kaleidoscopes in your eyes

and the sun kissing your hair

and a reflection of the brightest smile

that has touched my lips in years

and if the heat of the summer makes this a mirage

then so be it

i don't want to write another poem

not about you