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Mel Little Aug 2015
I am nothing.
Full of empty hope, stolen kisses, unfulfilled dreams
Full of starlight and sunshine
But really, full of last night's ***** and wasted promise.
I am nothing. Pouring tears, wastoid of God's creation
Covered in bruises and scars and tattoos and sweat and contempt from onlookers
I am nothing. Nothingness in its truest form, the lack of soul, the lack of feeling.
Call me Robot.
Call me Wasteling
Call me Loser
Call me Ugly.
Just ******* call me.
For I am nothing,
        Without you.
Mel Little Aug 2015
Walk all over people and one day someone will fight back

                           Teeth bared

And all you'll have is scars on your heels.
Mel Little Aug 2015
I am constantly falling in love with strangers.
With words written in notebooks stashed away and forgotten about.
With the way the light hits the trees in the morning as the sun rises, the way the sky is light pink and orange before blue.
I fall in love with curves of lips as boys talk to girls on the streets.
With the way people walk, as if gliding over linoleum in the oddly bright supermarket.
With hands that gesticulate as tongues, mouths, and brains tell stories too wildly unimaginable for the layfolk.
But I will not let myself fall in love with you.

I'm so sorry for that.
Mel Little Aug 2015
You care so little about the world around you.
"It's all ****," you say.
You explain to me how I will someday feel the same way.
You care so little about yourself.
You will drink yourself dead if you don't wake up
And I'm trying so hard to wake you up, my dear one.
You have so much apathy for the universe surrounding you
And I wonder
Why can't you care about me?
Mel Little Aug 2015
Occasionally I just have a day of
"I really can't do this anymore."
And my heart breaks over and over because the only thing I want
Is so unattainable.
I've worked so **** hard, but my body is tired of working.
I'm so tired of fighting.
I'm just ****** tired.
So I look through our old pictures and I feel so empty and so full at the same time.
Shaken up.
Nothing will ever go back, will it?
I was sad and drunk. Oops.
Mel Little Aug 2015
Ours was a bitter kind of love from the start
Bitten lips ****** around kisses
Handprints bruised onto each other
My fingerprints still rest in your shoulders
My legs still know how to wrap around your hips
My mouth still mumbles the
yes, please, ****, yessss
Even when you're not around
Separated by miles, by time
By mouths who have known other tastes
My fingerprints are on other shoulders now
The pills I swallow are no longer a part of you
And it takes every ******* part of me not to whisper your name into someone else's ears
Ours was a doomed love, wrecked and wretched
But you may still call my body your home
Should you wish
  Aug 2015 Mel Little
Justin S Wampler
Short, yet but lovely,
she stood at the height of my chin.
And for her I would
cast my soul into hell and into sin
over and over and over again.

Melanie isn't real,
but her idea is.
and I hate the girl
but her essence
makes me grin.

In doubt and in faith
she persists,
someone to talk to,
someone to miss.
When I'm drunk.

When I'm alone.

When she swims
through the depths
of my skin,
to my bones.
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