Let me count all the ways you fuck me,
You fuck me up,
You fuck me over,
Sometimes you just plain fuck me,
You make me fucking mad,
You make me fucking sad,
You make me fucking believe you,
You make me feel fucking crazy,
You fucking lie,
You fucking make me miss you,
You fucking hurt yourself,
You fucking hurt me,
You fucking break me,
You fucking build me up,
You fucking scare me,
You make me fucking cry,
You make me fucking want you
And I guess the truth of the matter is that I never learned to write love poems,
I dress up all emotions and dialogue as thinly veiled sex,
Aim to make them miss me without telling them why I need them to,
I never learned how to successfully calm the tornado of thoughts to tell a soul,
Especially words so scary that I make break if they leave my body,
How do you tell someone that they’re so beautiful it breaks your heart,
That all of their pieces are the things that you imagine when you close your eyes,
That you love them so deeply that you absolutely worship them,
Their voice in your head, their fingers in your hair, their legs wrapped around you,
Wanting someone so deeply that you can’t put it into tangible words,
How do you love something so sweet and so beautiful,
Someone who had to exist specifically to meet you,
You don’t want to share all of the things you love out loud,
Because you want them to belong only to you.
I was never good at letting someone know how badly I wanted them to see what I see,
How fucking badly you want to be thing that loves them the most,
The thing that they use to enjoy life,
The thing that you see when you close your eyes,
How do you tell someone that they deserve words you’re still learning how to say,
That everything about them is wonderful in a way,
That is absolutely fucking terrifying
I’m dying to know why I’m always worth the trouble,
Yet never the intended prize,
Always a part of the game,
That I’ll swear I’ll avoid,
Always falling for a false hope,
Something that was never real,
Not matter how much you believe,
I burn down everything,
You burn down me,
I swear I’ll learn the lesson,
Until I hear your voice,
How am I good at reading people,
Until I see you,
I want so desperately to be known,
And you play so good at wanting to,
Then you go,
Only whisper when it’s dark,
Look when no one else is around,
Seek when you’re bored,
Less and less of you,
Enjoying everything but me,
Because you never really wanted me anyway
Here we go again,
Stuck in a cycle,
Where I believe every lie you tell,
For words so fucking beautiful,
They’re so fucking empty,
You make me feel so fucking special,
Until you have me exactly where you like me,
On the brink of jumping,
Wanting pieces of you that don’t last,
Maybe you’re not meant for forever,
Maybe I’m just your toy,
Always so fucking sweet,
Until I’m melting,
Right where you want me,
To have something waiting for you,
Something easy to ignore,
To you I’m never worth more
I don’t really write letters anymore, mostly because I don’t know what to say. But you, I miss you, I never stop thinking about you. I hope you see the messages I send you. I hope you know that I was never ever ashamed of you for any decision that you made, and I pray I always made you feel that way. You were always something to look up to for one reason or another. You are the most loyal bitch I have ever known. You were always a friend to me and you never, not one single time, made me feel judged. Something that I think is so rare and so fucking beautiful. When I broke down on the side of the road, I called you. When I needed to go spy on my ex, I called you. When that ex was something so painful I wouldn’t leave my dorm, you dragged me out to go grocery shopping with you. You took me on car rides, you blared music and sang with me, you answered when I called, you always cheered me on from the sidelines, no matter what. No matter what. You were the first friend I ever I said I love you too and the person who taught me that was okay to feel love for your friends. I miss you on my couch playing with my dogs, or gossiping on my bed with me, I miss you in the kitchen while I make you a sandwich (fuck the patriarchy). You created some of my best memories and you were there for the worst moments in my life, how does one ever repay debt like that? I hope you remember me for all the times that I was there and none of the times that I wasn’t. I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you remember me always down to have an adventure with you, I hope you remember me singing to you on a bus for eight hours straight because you were crying and sad, you are the only human who will ever hear me sing an ICP song or songs if we’re honest. I hope you remember me laughing with you because no single human in this life has ever been as funny as you. I hope you remember being welcome into my home with open arms no matter what. I hope that if I ever have kids, they are so deeply wanted and that wherever you are, you’re one of those people wanting them. You are the reason that I am half the bitch I am and I miss you.
What’s your biggest secret,
Tell me your darkest thought,
How fucked up are you,
What’s your filthiest fantasy,
What are you too scared to tell,
Let me know your worst moment,
What makes you unlovable,
Scared of yourself sometimes,
Show me your biggest demon,
Let me see your shame,
Tell me how you broke your heart,
Things you’re too sad to tell,
Tell me the things you’ve never told
All your ugliness on display,
For me
Tell me all the boring things that you want me for,
Tell me that happiness is more than just you between my legs,
Tell me that I’m more than that,
Tell me how pretty I would be in the kitchen,
Tell me it’s exhilarating to be in the car with me, windows down,
Tell me you’d die to talk to me while I soak in the tub,
Tell me that watching movies with me is the perfect ending to your night,
Tell me that I’m not something for you to get bored of,
Tell me there are things inside of you that want me forever,
Tell me that I’m a good fit for you outside of my body melding with yours,
Tell me you like to run errands around town with me,
Tell me how you’ll know life with me would be enough,
Tell me that I exist for you, outside of sex,
Tell me why you’d still be there in the ashes,
Tell me what you’d want from me, after the world burns
