Grief Written

He quoted my words back to me, on a day where I felt like I couldn't breathe. That's how I knew he was listening.

It's 12:07 AM You haven't texted me back. I have thoughts running circles in my head. I'm begging for a stop light, or sign, some red light flashing telling me to stop. It's 12:07 AM You're awake somewhere  Or sound asleep My thoughts are colliding And I wish my red light in the form of unguarded eyes and a charming smile would show up.

.I don't think you realize the impact of what you say. Tongues can be sharp, they can really cut someone up. Mentioning insecurities tears me apart at the seams. My heart gets this feeling where it aches like it's trying to collapse in on itself, because it doesn't know how to work with sharp tongues stabbing it. One mention of you possibly not wanting me, brings flashbacks of all the returns my heart has gone through. Where I rip it out of my chest and give it to someone and they return it like I can just restock it and reshelf it. I dont know. Right now my heart is doing the ache thing and my lungs are constricting and I dont know what to write or say.  My mind is plagued with the thoughts of the day when you give me away.

I have moments when I feel as if I can't breathe. I have moments when I'm crushingly sad for no reason. I have moments when I hate myself. I hate myself even more when I see you struggling with my moments.

You're holding back. Sucking back words creating a swirling black hole within you. Because you're afraid of the galaxies your words could create and the explosions that could occur if you bit down too hard on the words flying from your lips. I know because I do it too. Sometimes I grind my teeth and press my lips together to keep the words from spilling out. My tongue is swollen with all the words I didn't say. And all I can say to this, is that the feeling of the words resting heavily on your tongue, and the black hole sucking back your key to being understood are the worst things in the world. I wouldn't wish that upon you. I want to live in the galaxies that come pouring out of your mouth. I want to wonder how such gorgoeus galaxies can tumble from your mouth and stars fall from your eyes. I want to hear you speak. I want to listen. I want to know what sparks and explodes and destroys and unfolds. Sometimes you don't speak, And the galaxies turn into black holes.

I loved you because I thought you saw the best parts of me, now I'm learning you see me how I see myself.

I'm broken, I leave a trail of broken glass behind me as I walk. Where I go, others dare not follow. Bloody feet and broken hearts are all that await them. You're broken too. Heart worn, pieces bent from trying to shove yourself into places you don't belong.  I invite you to walk alongside of me and spare your feet, a duo of broken dolls, loved and discarded.   I promise to let your pieces fall where they may and not force them where they don't belong. I won't try your pieces on like a new dress, and discard them when they don't fit just right. I'll do all these things if you walk alongside of me and pretend not to hear the chorus of falling glass that follows us. A blue and broken pair we'll trudge down the road and see what the horizons hold. And I'll try not to fall in love with your broken pieces if you don't fall in love with mine.

"It's nice to be wanted, but it's also nice to be wanted for longer than a night."  -advice that I'll never forget

You have your walls built sky high, And so do I. It makes me wonder if hearts can learn to fly.

He looked at me laughing and asked, "You know you're going to hell right?" Grinning with dark mirth I said, "Yeah I know." What I didn't tell him is that I'm already there.

And suddenly...I was the only who wanted it to work out.

Is it love, when you leave me breathless; My need for you like a hand crushing my throat. My lungs long for air but my lips burn for you. So my love and air pass from my lips to yours and you inhale deeply like I'm nothing but a cigarette to take a drag from. Not love perhaps, but an unhealthy addiction on both sides. But baby if all I'll ever be is your nicotine, it's alright with me.