Tag: unrequited love

i’m really goddamn fed up
of trying and failing to
wear my heart on my sleeve.
i no longer want to live
in fear of keeping it exposed
where it can get
bumped and bruised.
i want to tear it off
and
force it down your throat.
i want you
to taste the regret in my
blood and finally know
how long its been marinating.

i want to tell you how i feel // a.s.m

honestly,
it doesn’t matter
what time it is because
i’ll be thinking of you
anyway. 
at some point
i stopped feeling, so
i lit myself on fire to get high
enough away from the ground
you’ve walked on.
i see your footprints
on the streets from way up here
as the city shrinks to ants.
i can still pick the top of your head
out from the crowd
from the clouds, 
until i am on the moon:
i can’t see anywhere
your heart and mine were together.

(for)getting high // a.s.m

i know he is
secure and safe.
your mother will not shudder
when you bring him to
dinner dressed 
in a suit and tie, and 
he will know how to start a fire 
in the fireplace without looking 
it up on yahoo answers. 
you can marry him 
in a church and not feel 
God glaring 
down at you. 

but please know that 
i will always laugh 
at that video you love of 
the guy with the cup feet 
no matter how many times you 
replay it. 
my future already has
your name in it. 
we are so much alike that 
i sometimes wonder what 
part of me doesn’t have a piece 
to match up with you. 

everything i am is another 
heart on my sleeve: 
my biggest weaknesses, 
because they are everything 
he is not, and 
he has you.

excerpt from a letter i wrote to an old love // a.s.m

do not ignore what
little love is given to you for free, my
dear.
you can’t just
store me in your kitchen pantry
with your non-perishables.
i am flesh and hollow bone and
i am rotting from the inside out.
if you do not make use of me soon,
i will be gone from here: when the wind blows
through your open windows, i will be
dust on another man’s bookshelf.

you can’t just save me for later // a.s.m.

palms to the sky
a patient sacrifice, i’m waiting for ink
to spill from my veins; to taste of something
other than you.

because i haven’t kissed you
in over two months, and yet
you are still in my bloodstream
somehow.
because every fucking poem, every song,
every sunset is about you and
i’m sick of going to sleep
praying for relief from thoughts
of your eyes, only to see them
in my dreams.

and i don’t understand how it’s fair that
you’re biting her bottom lip
the way i used to bite yours and not
thinking of me, and yet i am
hit with memories like rocks
to my temple,
sending my sandcastles
tumbling.

a.s.m

You were only
the second person
I understood how to love. 
I was naive– I still hadn’t learned
that love isn’t
bleeding out onto the card table
and showing everyone your hand;
that in order to win, 
you had to bluff.

And I came in like a hurricane and
tore apart the small space
you had just started feeling like you could call home. 
I asked for a room– you weren’t sure
you had any.

But I made myself a copy
of your keys and slept
at the foot of your bed until 
you finally started leaving
extra eggs in the frying pan for me
in the mornings. 
But you never were one for routine. 

You were a runner,
you said. You didn’t like to stay still. 
You could find home within yourself but
were too scared to rent out property
in anybody else. 

I told you I was looking 
for a tenant. 

When I finally started making an indent
in your mattress, 
you locked me out. 

‘It’s too risky,’ you said, 
‘this real estate game.’

i just wanted you to want me, too // a.s.m

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back in the same way is a suffering unlike any other. Every minute in their presence is a reminder of what you are not, what you never will be: enough for them. And in the process of loving them, you end up hating yourself.

don’t you know this is why i had to leave? // a.s.m