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I'm still not sure where you got all these notions. Who's been telling you these lies about me? You should really learn to start checking your sources. Whoever gave you these romantic ideas about me being sweet, honest and loving was way off the mark. I was all of those things at one time...but that was in another life. It's not who I am now and it's not who I'm going to become. If you've come here trying to find your soulmate, you better search elsewhere.

That's not my whisper in your ear, my taste on your lips, hand on your thigh and I'm not the one that's beating in your heart. No. I'm the salt in your tears, the smoke in your lungs, the shit on your brand new shoes and the prayer best left unanswered. I'm the scab you pick until it bleeds.

Your first mistake was thinking I needed to be saved. I was like you a long time ago. There's nothing like tending to the wounded to make yourself feel needed and confusing that for being wanted. Don't fight your demons by trying to take on mine, you're not ready for them.

I know it all sounds harsh, but reality checks need to be. This is not me pushing you away; just letting you know the boundaries. 

Wake Up Call

"I chime in..."

I open my eyes as Panic! at the Disco screams from my cell, trying desperately to wake me up. I throw a hand at it and hit the snooze button by nothing short of dumb luck. Had it been Blue October, I'd need to move a lot faster and with New Found Glory I'd have to call my boss with a damn good excuse. My head feels murky as if I had spent the evening binge drinking and my muscles ache like I just ran a marathon.

Wait...why am I naked? All these cuts and bruises weren't there last night when I first hit my head on the pillow. Shit, I can't even remember anything that happened an hour prior to doing that.

The room has been haphazardly rearranged. My pill bottles have been removed from the bathroom and placed on the floor next to my bed. I pray to God I didn't take any more while I was sleeping.

This is the weird thing. I wasn't drinking, smoking, snorting or shooting anything last night. I just took a little white pill that's legally prescribed to me by a medical doctor. This shit ain't supposed to happen.

My stomach is empty, but I feel like I'm going to throw up. I should probably eat something, but I'm scared to have it locked and loaded. And people wonder why I'm only 135 pounds.

In the shower, the water is so hot it makes me grit my teeth as my skin almost blisters. This is the only thing that can somewhat shake the chemicals from my head so that I can have a single thought that is truly my own. A blast of cold water to shock my system and I'm good to go.

With a towel around my waist I make my way to the mirror. I wipe the steam from the glass with my bare hand and stare at myself. The eyes looking back have dark bags clinging under them like parasites. Cheeks appear to be sucked in, paper thin and revealing cheekbones. I can see the 13 carved in ink on my left pec, which sits perpendicular to the sunken mess my right one has been for as long as I can remember. Both are framed my collar bones and ribs that shouldn't be this visible. Fuckin body issues.

I throw on a shirt so I don't have to look at my chest anymore and rub glue in my hair. That, along with a brush of the teeth and a few swipes of deodorant make my daily ritual complete. Wait. Almost. I forgot the three pills I'm supposed to take every morning.

From my room I can hear "Razorblade" blaring from my phone. It's about that time. I look at the bottle in my hands and pour its contents down the sink. Maybe that last alarm was the wake up call I've been aching for all this time.

A Surprise Visit.

(Knock knock)


No, it's not that, exactly. I just wasn't expecting you to drop by. It's been so long...

Yeah, I guess you can come in. Have a seat. How have you been?

Look, stop right there. I was just trying to be a good host, I don't really care.

Don't take the hostility so personally. I'm not really a fan of anyone these days.


So, what are you doing here?

You missed me?

Yeah, it is a little hard to believe. I hate when people say that to me. That's all I ever hear from anyone. "I miss you". But then they never call. Never stop by. Then, just when I get used to not having them around, to handling things on my own, that's when I'm missed. So take the longing or whatever you want to call it and shove it up your ass. I don't need it.

Don't bring that up. You have no right to talk about the good times. Not anymore.

Yeah, I do sometimes.

Well, I miss how it felt to be around you, when it was still good. I felt like there wasn't a thing in the world that could touch me. Turns out you could. It took me down hard. I'd give anything to feel invincible again.

It's fine, really. I am over it. Doesn't mean I wanna try to make a run with anyone else. I think that part of me is gone.

I don't know how to care anymore. I just feel so fucking numb and I don't know how to stop it. Don't look at me like that. It's really not as bleak as it sounds. I'd have to feel something to be depressed, right?



I did for awhile. Just started again last month. Ok, what have been up to? I was an asshole earlier, I really would like to know.

Oh. Did he treat you alright?

I guess that's why you talked about him in the past tense. When did it end?

Wait. It just ended three days ago, and now you're here? What's this really about?

You've said that already. I didn't believe it then. You just miss being with someone. Especially someone that didn't do what the other guy did. Well, fuck you. I'm not picking up the pieces this time.

Oh, it's not? That's how we got together in the first place, remember? Some guy dumped you and I was the rebound that just stuck around long after your use for me was over. I'm not going through that again. I wish you the best of luck and all, but I want no part of it. It's probably best if you'd leave right now, it's going to take a long time for me to get over this again.

Yeah, I know. You never do. last time.

(an embrace)

(lips meet, tounges explore)

(faces linger an inch apart)

See? I don't feel a thing. Have a good night.


After The Tone...

Late night phone call,

you don't answer so I'll talk to your machine.

I rehearse what I want to say,

the cell shakes in my hand as I wait for the...


Hello, I know,

I haven't talked to you in some time.

And so you know,

things are ok, yeah, I guess I'm doin fine.

Even though it's one sided,

we desperately need to have this conversation.

I've been holding my breath waiting for some closure,

I fear I'll die soon from lack of oxygen.

Were you aware that you're just like me,

with all the secrets you've kept for awhile?

Now I'm ready to tell you the truth about last summer,

and all those dark months I lived in denial.

We never could agree on anything,

sometimes I think we thrived on the conflict.

Half hearted apologies,

could never repair the pain we'd inflict.

You always claimed that you were too damaged,

and didn't see how I could feel the things I felt.

But self deprecation's just another way,

of saying "I hate myself".

I think of all the times I layed in silence,

as I watched the the night bleed into the day.

We were only inches apart,

yet you still felt so far away.

Look...just call me back when you get this,

it's something I think we both need.

Let's get some closure from this,

can we just clear the air so I can breathe?