BathroomStallStories

I still find myself bleeding over the wound you left me, three years later. Some days you are the dull in my fingertips, others you are my inability to look a man in the eye. But mostly, you are my constant distrust. My body no longer feels set ablaze passing by your house, or hearing your name. But my mind remains bruised, even with years to heal and countless short-lived remedies. I've tried the pills, pot, liquor, and even flimsy lovers, but my friends still manage to say they miss the old me. The me that you took away. And between trying to still recollect the shatters of my heart and mind, I can't seem to find her either. No one told me

He has prayed as much as he said "I love you" in both cases they were inaudible Occasionally you can hear him when he traces the outline of you similar to the way a stroke induced December remembers to speak spring like he's seen you before in his dreams You can hear him when his eyes linger at your smile as if he could find faith from your light trapped, imbedded in insecurity his way is a broken record even the deaf could listen to He will not say I love you not because he doesn't but because you can not hear a man you have yet to meet but when you do, oh god, you will be brutally aware Because with love like his you could dr

Lately I've felt 2AM more as an emotion and less as a time my heart thickens but not with love, with alcohol (one day I'll drown you out of me) He became every letter he hid within my ink and slept in the cracks of my fingernails I only see him ... I'll write another song he wont hear and trace the outline of where he laid his hands last ... How sad is it to be this young and wish for death when we see the stars?

Every car from far away looks like yours and I'm not quite sure if I should stay and wave or run the other way because everything with you was bittersweet and I don't know what to call you my heart says you were mine (my brain knows I wasn't the only one) so I'm stuck with tasting but never eating I still see you in everything in this old love song in his face on every street corner I'm plagued by the thought of you so tonight I'm dressed up real nice to go on a date with a real nice boy who brang me my favorite flowers and says all the right things (but he'll never be you) and I'm trying to erase our memories (but they're all written

I feel it clawing at my skin digging at my veins it's everywhere underneath the fabric of my nails my skin crawling as its canvas the teeth gnawing at my legs I am a sinking ship (by my own destruction) cast away the life boats but will always be stuck out at sea so lonely but has many friends so unhappy all I am are scars numb to affection except to the feelings that kill me I am breaking I'm so sorry Mom Dad Ian myself

he was a boy driving in the Daytona 500 and just when you think he's about to slow down for you to climb in he drops his motor to a whisper and tells you "I'm sorry that I love you." and speeds away while your palms are   still clamped into the door and your knees drag against the road because you scraped your knees falling for him I can't let go and you can't hold on and I banged on the glass "let me in!" but you shook your head "you'll only get hurt." and then I release, tossed in a ditch only half way to my home are you afraid of me or love?

"We put things in the ground to grow" I said I sat at a park bench with my cane at my side fingers dancing along the frame of my leg when a girl sat with me "Then why do we bury people?" I shot a glance towards my feet and looked at her bright ruby slippers tap your shoes three times and say you want to go home "so that they can grow." I looked at her, her hand rummaging and handing out breadcrumbs deep in thought. "Why would they need to grow when they're dead?" my eyebrows crinkled at the question then I spoke "a seed starts from the ground, but unlike that, that is where we end. We grow for our death to

I remember the first time I met her a tower of books tucked under her chin glasses sliding down her nose that she wiggled like a hare's I helped her carry the tower to her brother's truck him ever so persistent to return home and her just happy to escape into literature she slumped into the seat the tower resting at her bare toes she stuck out her hand and told me her name and laughed at the common of it she would be a freshman after summer same as me her brother still urgent had the engine roar to life and drive away her hand waving at me with a broad smile bubbling over that danced for me and all I could think was

"where is your heaven?"the man spat coldly."Where is it if we can't touch it?" he snickered and coughed out those many years of cigarettes. He started puffing another pack. I hoped he choked on those embers. My eyes rested at my feet, searching for an answer to grab me, but none did. He was growing restless yet satisfied with the entangling silence, "I was right, kids so caught up in questions they give no answers." my eyes rose to see a smug expression radiating off of him like poison; he was the lost that still won. "You going to say something?" he licked his reptile lips in amusement. "Whatever." he scoffed in a tired tone. He started walk

She was the beauty, the grace, and danced down the hall with calloused feet. She spoke with pungent words and tart truths, all softened by her curve that shone white like a hyena's grin A friend she had many, a true one would be none, for she built this shell around her, made for building, not for falling down.