I’m already bored. I’ve become just “there”…
Something you’ve become used to, taken for granted.
It’s normal. It’s tasteless. It’s forced.
I’m just “there”, sucking up the air by your said to make you feel less
on the outside.
When they’ve forgotten the years I’ve littered Earth
You could always mark the time
By the string of men I’ve played and hurt.
They couldn’t be together if they had to be themselves.
I think you love me because I’m the only one left standing.
While your dreams were burning, they fled your shelter. Now I stand in the ashes of your foundation.
Believing in you wholeheartedly. Waiting for our next step. Loving you when you think there is nothing left to love.
It isn’t me you love… there just isn’t anyone else around.
She said to me, “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t believe in God.”
I told her I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t have Faith.
She never felt loved, because she never believed she was worth loving.
I don’t love him. I don’t think I love anyone. But it felt nice to pretend for a night… that I could be one of these “nice” girls… with boyfriends, instagrams and families… Something precious, innocent and sweet. Something worth protecting.
I played my part well; the naive, the blameless, the victim, the pure… I covered my scares in a flowing white dress, I said words of love and affirmation with convincing tamber, as if fore the first time. I tightened as he entered me, telling him, “It’s been so long”, “I never do this” “No one has ever been this big, this good, this ___”.
Meanwhile praying he hadn’t kept count of the Magnums in the drawer, or noticed a golden wrapper catching the moonlight in my trashcan.
Sometimes I feel like that trashcan.