I Hate You I Miss You

it took me six months to understand that the songs you sing me late at night are not unsent love notes. not unconfessed lust. just cliche and plagiarized just songs that you like that you want me to like too because that's a friendly thing to do. it took me three years to convince myself not to carve your name across my chest give myself as an offer sacrificial sweetheart spread on the table warm and melting crisp and cut open it took me three years to discover you, smirking like the devil, the boy behind the camera, the boy behind the arsony. it took me three years to discover that you, pinning me up like a world map on your eggshell walls, did not mean that you loved me. it just meant humiliation, rebirth of mortification, it just spoke of your need to dangle me kindly, and you know i will always hold on too tightly when i'm scared. it took me three years to understand that you might never kiss me again, that when you touch me it's not catnip, just collateral damage, and i know how much you love to watch the girl burn. you may just be a nomad pacing, and i, just something to keep your feet arched, just someone to touch when you've forgotten how quickly skin can char, just someone who will always chew the scraps she is given. it took me three years to understand that you are the wreckage, seeing mirrors in the faces of everyone you didn't try hard enough to love. you are the wreckage, you are coming undone i am the love letters, you are just the paper cuts. i am three years worth of scar tissue and trust issues and all the birthday cards you waited too long to send. it took me 13 days to discover that maybe you are just as empty. maybe we are both too empty, to fill each other up.