- I left my favorite pair of underwear at your house. I know your mother hates me, can I come pick them up?
- It’s been almost a month and I still miss you like a fucking limb.
- I didn’t know my bones could ache until I met you.
- You know, a week before we broke up, do you remember? I had bought a book of poetry. You asked why I didn’t read something more interesting and I could feel my insides splinter.
- You said poetry was all lies dressed up to sound pretty. When I look at you these days, I want to ask if sadness sounds pretty to you too.
- It’s 3 a.m. and this alcohol tastes like you.
- I saw you staring at me today during Lit class. I smiled at you and you didn’t smile back. I almost cried.
- The girl who sits next to me smells like you.
- I miss you.
- I have never had so many bad nights.
- Sometimes I write poetry about you on the internet. Strangers who have never met either of us think you’re cruel – they tell me if they had the honor of loving me, we’d have sex three times a day and they’d scream my name when they came.
- They think it is beautiful, how I am broken. I don’t think they understand.
- You used to tell me I was beautiful. I tried saying it in the mirror the other day, but it sounded wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.
- Everything I say sounds wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.
- We were never in love, but, oh God, we could have been.
asked by Anonymous
As a child I always had nightmares of someone removing my heart
and replacing it with a broken shadow box.
No matter how hard I tried to fill its shelves with the trinkets of my childhood-
gravel, honey, scissors, torn pockets-
the shelves emptied themselves as soon as I filled them.
It’s the same with you. I try to remove you from my mind,
spill you from the cavities buried deep in my eye teeth,
but you’re always there, a city pushing its metal ridges through my skin.
There are anchors in my eyes when I look at you.
No one else has dragged me down the way you do.
I’ve been walking the tightrope between in love and over it
for so long that I’m not even sure which side I want to fall off of anymore.
I guess whichever one involves a softer landing.
But the thing is, even your laugh shakes me to the core.
I’ve been burning long before you knew me.
My stomach doesn’t just get butterflies when I see you;
it fills with a flurry of bats flapping their wings so hard
that the sound of flight tears holes in my inner lining.
I wish you could see me, but that would involve a magnifying glass.
In my dreams I swallow your hipbones whole-
right before I wake up, the archaeologists come to remove you
from my windpipe like a dinosaur skeleton, but every bone is rusted
because I’ve spent a lifetime learning how to oxidize you.