And you don't talk to me like you used to
I wonder if you still write about the boy who ***** you
and do you think that gives Him power or
You?

and you've settled somewhere you feel like you belong
but half of my bed is still in the shape of you so really
what I meant

was when are you coming home
because nothing feels like home when you're gone

the first six months after you was probably the worst time of my life
not just because i was trying to remember how to taste like anything besides you
that was the same time my mother died while i was busy pushing needles into veins and spitting blood from my lips
we ****** in your car anywhere that would make me feel alive
but your bed never felt like home to me
i lied when i said i don"t write about you anymore
but lying belt better than admitting i can feel the way you're missing from my bones
i'm hollow and that's not the same as empty
all my lining's made of your fingerprints
which means i'll always taste like you no matter how many times i rinse my chest out with *****
try to drown the bits of you left growing between my ribs

this last six months
i've seen you three times
twice was behind a double pane glass window
we talked about getting married and running away together
tonight i thought about calling you at least six times
when's the last time you saw me six months sober 180 pounds clean wrists and a smile
never
and how much of this do i owe to you
for leaving me and only coming to remind me what i'm missing
i can feel your fist in my throat begging me not to let small words escape

goodbye i love you and i love the way you taste like cherries
like trying to convince me there's anything sweet about you

I got sober to prove a point
that the only thing that really kept me high was the way you taste at 4 o'clock in the morning
when the sky is darkest and there's no light left in my eyes

I got sober and my PO checks up on me when I don't answer my phone because I still don't show up when I'm supposed to because I'm busy daydreaming about how waking up dead would feel

this is a feeling I thought I had almost forgotten

I haven’t felt this numb in months

this is why i stopped smoking so much

turned to a drug that at least made me feel something

I’m sick of biting my lip until it bleeds

I’m sick of having to remind myself that I am still real

my whole life all i’ve known is silence
shut up. get up.

don’t open your mouth
don’t close your hands

don’t make him think you’re fighting back
don’t you dare fight back

quick tongue don’t mean nothing
‘less ya got hands just as quick

in my house
threats are met by fists

and you can pray all you want
cause in this house
words don’t mean ****

unless you’re soft..

but belts and beatings never hurt as bad
as my daddy sayin’ he’d rather be dead..
than wake up every day with me as his kid

I’ve held a loaded gun to my head

the only reason I didn’t pull that ******* trigger is
I never want my mother to have to see me like that..

sprawled out on the bathroom floor
tiles that use to hurt my head they were so white..
stained red from all the blood

and the scariest part is

not a day has gone by that I don’t regret my choice
because
no matter how good I feel
I always end up wishing I were dead

but I wasn’t brave enough to swallow back the guilt
threw it back up with every overdose

I spent years trying to cut out all the hurt
let it spill from my veins
my wrists will never be empty of scars again

I tied a rope around my neck
thinking I could go quick enough that no one would have to hear my screaming

it left me with burns around my throat
choking back every “I’m dying”
“somebody, help me”

I have held a loaded gun to my head
but I am so scared

I am so scared of losing you that I can’t even **** myself

I am so sick of playing the good guy

of keeping my mouth shut
of checking up on you every ******* time something goes wrong
and wishing you well with a boy I can’t ******* stand
of keeping my problems to myself
of letting you tell me you love me everytime you leave

I ****** you to show you that that’s all you are to me
one night
not even an “I love you”
a “shut the hell up before someone hears you”
a fist around your throat and lips on your inner thigh

it wasn’t even for you
I didn’t care how good it made you feel

I wanted to have some ******* control for once

I am so sick of you leaving hickeys on my neck
of getting me high to show me you still own me
of your fingers in my hair and your nails on my back

you drive me ******* insane
and I am so sick of always coming back to you