you can draw stories on my skin and i can write you love poem, sonnets. the kind you read in the dark with your hand between your legs. I’m a mess, and your hands are already filthy. I look at you and I see no fear in your eyes. You aren’t afraid to reach ad sift through the wreckage the others before you have left. You’ll find pieces of them that are still attached to my bones. The bullets that scar tissue has long since consumed. It was less painful to leave them where they landed on impact. Still a part of me. You’ll find pieces old and new all white deciding which ones can stay and which are best to be removed and discarded. Thrown into the ocean, like messages messages in old jack Daniels bottles I emptied searching for more than the bottom of the glass. A boy from just up the road, how lucky I am to have found you while you were wandering lost. You’re so bitter, but you still love her and your heart is soft. Its alright, I’ll be your second choice, until Im not anymore. Maybe I’ll in time be your first or more likely;your last. I want to know you, to plunge into the depth of the undiscovered but I don’t know how anymore.  Please try not to question my motives when I strip you of your clothes, and get under your skin only to bow out after my final performance and let the curtain close. I dont know how to stop felling like  have overstayed my welcome when my trembling hands pull on my blouse and I’m zipping up my pants. ” Don’t get dressed. Come over here” but this is what I am good at. Leaving. I know how to do this. Its easy. I play like a broken record, turn me over when i start to skip never finishing the song. The melody is half played, leaving you in despair.Do you want to hear more? I never stay enough long enough to find out, i Flinch when you touch me afterwards. Did you feel me pull away? Im sorry. So many hands before yours were too rough, i have scars to prove it. Even the ones that were gentle tore me me apart like starved wolves when I couldn’t be what they wanted me to. I don’t know  how to let my heart be touched, I have long since forgotten hot to stay the night. How to hug and kiss goodbye. I know how to slip out into the dark cold air when their eyes are closed leaving behind lipstick stains on their pillowcases and a note on their bedside table next to my cigarette still half lit. “I’m sorry I had to go, I couldn’t stay. I can never stay”  and how to leave the phone calls unreturned or ignored, how to change my number so I don’t chance answering one of the ignored texts when i hit the bottle harder then he hit me. I know how to come to you in the night, and leave with the sun rise. I don’t know to sit across from you at brunch and laugh and talk and feel things.  I want to. I long for intimate moments and midnight cuddles and to awake form my nightmares to reach over on the other side of the bed and have you hold me tight”baby I’m here, you’re ok.” I just don’t know how to get there and maybe a large part of me doesn’t want to get there. My fear of it consumes me, it eats me alive.This illness has no cure, the monsters in my head feed like rabid animals on the fragments left of my heart, they breathe smoke in to my lungs and it becomes so fucking hard to breathe. Everything in me wants to stay. but my feet only know the road home . So I must go, I must go <JG><UNDRESSED>


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