Author: Jess

we talk about you in past tense
now you’re so far gone
our memories are faded
just like photographs
tacked to the wall
with the angle that the sun falls
it’s all turned white and black.
there’s nothing more there.

we talk about it with hushed voices.
you mean nothing anymore.
we don’t even cry about it.
we just sit and laugh about it
how dumb we were
to believe in you
but deep down we feel like whores.
i let you use me.

we slowly drain the blood from our veins.
you were every everything to every everyone of us.
but now we don’t know how to breathe
we don’t remember how it feels to break.
we’re so sarcastic we’re not admitting anything about you.

we talk about you in past tense

waffle cones, hot fudge brownie.
and flat bread sandwiches.
that i can’t eat.
they sound like a poem
that i would write.
i think that you would be the best thing for me.

when he’s so stressed out
he starts yelling
and pounding on my self-esteem
he knows all of the ways to make me cry.
and he does it so easily, smoothly.
with most people it’s like tearing sclera with a butter knife.
not for him.
but you pick me up,
off the ground, out of my brain.
you make it all okay again.

‘i never said thank you for that..
thought i’d get one more chance’

you’re nothing short of perfect.
i’d go anywhere for you.
i’d do anything for you.
(of course, i wouldn’t doubt love for you.
with you, i know it’s true.)
you’re wonderful.

do you remember how pretty the fireworks were in the sky?
that’s alright, neither do i.

am i your heroine
can you still feel the burning?
i saved you for the first time.
am i still saving you from myself?
am i protecting you from everyone?
maybe i’m good enough:
the strongest little girl in the world.
you treat me like i’m fragile.
you break with me, all the time.
can i still tell you everything?
will you still drown in all of my lies?
let this crash/bam/slam melody own you.
like me, it can take you away.
your fears. your hapiness.
i’m nothing : a wreck, a fuck-up, a failure.
i’m everything perfect : smart, pretty.
i still use my cruthes.
i’m beautiful when i bleed.
i’ll be your everything still
i need to feel wanted
let me feed your addiction
can i still make you someone?
can we go away together?
i’m still so in love with you.
i’m still hating me.
oh please oh please don’t go
i can’t stand here alone.

it’s me again.
i’m that girl that sits at her register.
thinking about how great it would be
to fall in love with you.

hello, how are you.
i’m that girl that sits at her register.
thinking about how 10 dollars is a small price
to pay to hear your voice.

what’ve you been up to.
i’m that girl that sits at her register.
thinking out things like truth and innocence
two words i know nothing about.

i’m sorry. i have to go.
i’m that girl that sits at her register.
thinking about how i’m not good enough
to even get a glimpse of you.

goodbye, goodnight.
i’m that girl that sits at her register.
thinking about how great it would feel
to hear you promise me forever.

with cardboard for wings
i’ll fly away from here.
lifted by nothing but my dreams
and the promise that you can forget memories.
i’ll fly away from here.
won’t you fly with me?
i promised not to let you go.
on the ground or in the air.
we can be like angels.
making up for lost time
all of those days in our childhood we spent crying.
all of those times we considered dying.
i promised that it will get better than this.
on the ground or in the air.
with cardboard for wings.
we’ll get the fuck away from here.

i’m wearing a smile that never dies.
i’m wrapped up in your lies.
i’m in love with the sparkles in your eyes.
this feeling will lead to my demise.

oh and you leave me so broken.

you accentuate my fears.
in my sleep i’m flooded with tears.
i see through you like the holes in my ears
i’m drawn to you like an alcoholic to beers.

oh and you leave me so broken.

from you.. i want to go away
i’m sick of living in the text of this play
and i just can’t wait one more day
i don’t care what you have to say

oh and you leave me so broken.

i like the way it feels to dress up like ken.
i’m not in love with anything but memories then.
and your affection is just a token.
a dance, a dream, of times i was unbroken.

so yes it’s true.
i’ve been quasi-avoiding you.
but i’d never tell you that.
because i’d never hear your voice again.
and i’d never let you think
for one second
that you were winning this game.
or that i even thought that i might be losing.

so yes it’s true.
i feel all of these things for you.
and i know you better than anyone.
i think that’s safe to say.
and i really really like you.
i’d go so far as to say love.
and not doubt it.

so yes it’s true.
it hurts a little to think about you.
and your voice saying to her ‘i love you’
and i’m so fucking paranoid.
that i can’t ask, it hurts less to just assume.
and it bothers me that i still feel this way
i’m still so in love with me.
(who i used to be)

so yes it’s true.
i’m still in love with you.
and you still go on, living.
you still go on without me.
without even realizing.
i want to knock on your head and say hello.
the student has a full six pack but is missing the little plastic thing that holds it all together

so yes it’s true.
maybe this is a little bit more
than just work-related stress.
but it’s fucking hard to tell.
i’m so godammed vague these days.

scent.
that causes a repeat of my inhale.
an inhale that takes my breath away,
again and again and again.
your scent that draws me in.
did i even mean to say i love you?
your scent that i avoid.
that i hate.
that i want.
your scent.

“there’s nothing to lose if i don’t try”

i’m a little bit paranoid.
i always have this feeling that you’re watching me.
i seem to hear my name in all of your whispers
you’re voice is so faint that you can’t hear me screaming.
shut up. shut up. shut up.

and despite what i think
you don’t care about this.
and despite what i thought
you weren’t who I said you were.
and even though, even though i can’t let you go.
i’m so redundant.
shut up. shut up. shut up.

you used to tell me you’d give me the world.
apparently it was just a loan.
and everything you’ve said tome
everything fades to black.
everything is meaningless, everything is nothing.
shut up. shut up. shut up.

i can feel your eyes from across the room.
they’re like the knives that tear across my arms.
i can feel you voice, it’s hot on my neck.
i can hear you talking.
shut up. shut up. shut up.

oh god i wish i had a guitar.
maybe i’d learn to play louder
than those voices in my head.
they sound like your voice.
shut up. shut up. shut up.

her eyes closed; her heart broken:
there she lies on the bed
wishing this would all melt away.
she can watch her tears dry.
but when her blood falls it leaves a stain.
she can turn her head:
movement, breaking one thousand glances,
but she can’t break the sting of this disease.
sickness is her friend
a held hand while she’s dying inside.
her facade of emotion : unfaltering.
while externally, manually controlled knives intentionally falter;
shattering once-like-porcelain skin.
she thinks that this is comfort.
there’s solace in the pain
she writes this off as normal–
an everyday break from an everyday pain
–and you can’t make this feeling for her,
you only control her mental agony.
when she feels the familiar pain,
that sting of flesh tearing,
she’s in control of everything.
and that’s a wonderful way to feel.