True Lust

Mile long legs
Exposed just so boys will like her.

Pounds of makeup caked on

Just so boys will think she’s pretty. 

Little do they know

That she is so much more

Than the pounds of makeup

And exposed flesh.

She is a human being 

Who has emotions and ambitions.

Who has dreams and despairs.

A human being who is treated like a 

common object.

A human being who is beginning 

To FEEL like a common object.

She’s so broken that she’s forgotten

What it feels like to be human. 

Forgotten what true love feels like.

Because instead of true love

She is expected to just dabble 

In true lust. 

Casualty

The night you broke me

My hair smelled like a calm campfire, and your mouth told some lovely lies.

My eyes looked into yours with earnest innocence, and yours looked into mine with devilish deceit.

I told my dramatic dreams to you, saying they were too big, and you spoke your alleged assent that they were attainable.

I believed your flakey falsehoods, and you took advantage of my lovesick lopsided heart.

I walked away with many freshly forming scabbing scars, and you walked away with a heartless hardy-har.

I came back with a large lesson, and you walked away with another cruel casualty under your belt. 

Daily Prompt: Cheat

via Daily Prompt: Cheat

Cheat

To cheat is to beat

There is no question about it

When you are cheated on

It is like being beaten

By the one that you hold dear

It feels like they have taken

Your poor helpless heart

And brutally battered it.

It crushes you emotionally

And it crushes you physically

Until you feel like

You can’t trust any dear person

Ever again.

 

 

 

 

Burnt

You turn on the faucet, all the way to hot. Scalding water is gushing out and you stick your hand under the water. What do you feel? At first you feel cold, almost numb, and then you feel the excruciating burning. You scream and pull your hand out, shaking it vigorously until the pain subsides. That’s what it’s like what someone breaks your heart. You’re numb at first, and then it scalds you, melting off your flesh. It hurts so badly but all you can do is wait for the pain to subside. When I first heard the news I was numb, so blissfully numb, and now I’m so painfully burnt. But this burn isn’t like the normal 3rd degree burn, no. It’s like a 3rd degree sunburn where you blister, scab, and then peel. That’s the steps, and I’m still in the blister stage. Everyday a blister pops revealing a pain worse then the last, and I scream. I scream because you chose her, and I scream because I don’t deserve this. I wail because it’s my fault, I was dumb enough to believe that you wanted me, and it got me burnt. It’s like I sat out in the sun for 10 hours with no sunscreen. It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I let him in, and I let myself blister in his heat. Hopefully the scabbing will come soon, because I don’t know if I can take this any longer. I look at every passing car to see if it’s his, even though he doesn’t have one anymore. I think about him everyday, and I just wish I could scratch him out of my memories. But like a scab, I can’t pick at it. I can’t change the past, and I can’t change him. Scabbing is itchy and since I’m impatient it’s even worse. So I sit here with blisters, thinking about scabbing which makes me itchy. But then I think about the relief of peeling. The relief of knowing that it’s finally over, and all you have to do is peel off some dead skin and move on. You’re good as new, and hopefully you learned a lesson. Because as you’re peeling off the remains of your ordeal, you remember the pain that came with the blisters, and the urge to pick at your scabs. So the next time you go out in the sun you put on sunscreen, and the next time you think about letting another boy in, you think about the blisters that are still secretly on your heart. 

Black and Blue

    This picture should be a pretty one. One that reminds me of summer and friends, bonfires and hot nights. But it reminds me of something ugly and painful. The color of the sky reminds me of the bruises you left on me, and no I don’t mean physically. I mean the bruises you left on my heart and soul. The ones that take months to fade, not weeks. The ones that people don’t notice and don’t bother to ask about, and maybe it’s better that way. I don’t exactly want to go around telling people that I let a boy like you get in my way. Because I’m too smart for that, right? Wrong. I’m just as gullible as the squirrel that got ran over on the road. And let me tell you, these bruises hurt just as much as that squirrel when it got ran over. You want to know the difference between that dead squirrel and I? The squirrel died and is out of its misery, and I am not. I’m still here suffering day in and day out because you didn’t have the courage to put me out of my suffering. You kept prolonging the pain of hope, and look what you’ve done to me. You’ve made me into an unrecognizable zombie who wanders throughout my days aimlessly, wondering when the pain will stop. Honestly I don’t think it ever will, because there isn’t a time of day when you’re not on my mind. And we all know what happens when I think about you. I lose the ability to think straight, and my throat chokes with unshed tears. 

    You know what else this picture makes me think of? Drowning. How I endlessly drown in the agony of you not wanting me. But you couldn’t just let me down easy, could you? No, you couldn’t. You had to shove me right over the cliff and into the water. You didn’t care what happened after you shoved me, if I drowned or swam to shore exhausted and battered. And you never thought about what became of me after the fall. Well let me tell you. I died. Not my body but my heart and soul, which is essentially dying. Because if your heart and soul are dead, you are dead. So I guess you didn’t really kill me to begin with, because I’ve been slowly dying for years. But my dear; you sped up the process, and for that I will never forgive you.

#heartbreak 

Like a Moth Drawn to a Flame

Like a moth drawn to a flame. That’s the best way I can describe it. I felt pulled to him, like there was an invisible string connecting me to him, pulling me. But I knew that if I let that string pull me, I would be burned. My paper wings disintegrated into ash, and my poor helpless body hurtling through the air, towards my demise. Just like the moth, I couldn’t help the fact that I was following my natural instinct. You see, we are a lot like moths in this aspect of natural instinct. An expert once said “moths didn’t evolve around bright lights, after all; they evolved at a time when all the light on Earth came solely from the distant sun, moon and stars.” Like the moths, we humans are still living in the dark. Let me put it this way, until I saw him, my whole world looked dim. When I laid eyes on him, it was like he was the only person that ever mattered. Until you find your light, you’re living in the dark. He was my light, and like the light he retained his glowing, stoic beauty. And I, like the naive moth, got burned into a pile of charred remains.