What You Stole From Me
I remember our skin pressed together hot at seventeen. I remember long nights in your basement room. Lazy days in my bed behind a locked door. I remember the sun bringing your freckles out to play and toasting my skin to your favorite shade of me. I remember your fingers creeping inside of me playful on train rides to the city. Your mouth sleepy on my own and your arms pulling me into the cradle of dreams. And I remember waking from the dream in a desperate fever. Dead phone lines. Unanswered letters. Lonely sheets. And bruised love thrown to its knees. The floor its only brace. The snow drifting in as summer disappeared.
Wishing to Let Go
Oh my love,
I can’t distract myself from the pain anymore.
Can we be strangers again?
Relearn what we already know.
Do you have any intention on loving me like you once did... Showering me with romantic gestures?
Have you ever felt my pain when I cried?
How my feelings must not concern you.
I’ve never been a crybaby until I met you.
But everything hurts unbelievably worse when it’s done by the one you love.
How strange it is to love and hate someone with equal passion...
