Wake Up

10:47 a.m.
The phone rings.
You are on the other end, and you are here…a mere ten minutes away. Bus stop and I am frantically hiding everything worth any value. I am wondering what I will see when you look at me…how will all of this rage react when your big brown eyes find my slit style gray mysteries.

I want to kill you. I want to kiss you. I want to take you to the back door of my memory and show you EVERYTHING you did to me. I want to rage on you…I want to see you bleed and cry and fall down. Repeat. I want to feel you break. You cant break whats already broken. I have to remind myself of that elementary fact every damn day I think of you.

And what am I to do? How do I react? you call me…you are nine hours away from your home and hundreds of miles. Dead winter weather and twenty mile winds…I cant turn you to the streets. I guess I wish my heart was cold enough to say goodbye and holy hallelujah, but something inside of me still loves you. This mind state is abuse…its battery and I am kicking my own ass.

The clash. Do I stay, do I go. Do I hang up the phone? I go through the motions as I mix my coffee. I need a cigarette…I need a sedative…I need a heart of stone and ice running through my veins. I need to be brutal and harsh and cold and cruel. I need to be everything I never really thought I could be. But I love you. In some odd way in some weird corner of my mind all I can see is that one night when you made me feel like the world stopped turning when your lips found mine.

You called me perfect and I believed you. that was your worst offense. You found a girl who thought she was nothing…a zero...some lonely little lass on the side of the road but no one wants to pull over because you just don’t seem golden. You took that, knowing how much I hated myself, and you made me feel like a goddess. A fucking everything. You made me feel like traffic would stop just to let me cross. And then…finally feeling safe…secure…at home…like I could trust someone and believe that they would fight for me the way I fight for them…then you left me behind. Dust in the wind, brother…I was only dust in the wind.
Some one night stand…a holy hell I can fuck her and maybe find her later when i need need need someone to believe in me?! I believe in tearing you down…I believe in raw violence that equates to my tires finding your broken back. I believe in bleeding pores and shattered bones. I believe you were the worst thing that happened to me, but i cant regret you. I cant take you back…why? Because that night lying there unveiled to your deceptive eyes I figured that some boys are worth the fight, and some…are just shit waiting for you to break down so they can tell you that they need you and feed off of every genuine energy you possess for them.

Sharpie marker. I write FUCK YOU all over your forehead. If I was a tattoo artist I would make it bleed while I etched your bone.

Side b.

Baby you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. What can I say…I love it when you pop your collar and just start to sing. I love the way you dance. I love how you laugh. I wanna touch you in a million places because every stretch of skin holds a million flavors. I wanna write your story and make love to it with my imagination every night. I wanna protect you from every cold, heartless, bitter energy outside. I wanna hold you when you cry.
I want to be the girl you call the love of your life. And this moment drags on, but it breaks my heart to know that it will pass. You are there…across the room…dark hair hanging nearly to your eyes and i wanna rush over to you and ask that you never ever ever leave…no stay right here and just fucking hold on to me. This kind of need I have for you drives me nearly nuts. I don’t want to love you

*grab my hair and i pull. I run my fingers through the mess and i want to cry or break or believe. I just cant see what I believe in when it comes to seeing you. This is a massacre. You are holding the machete and lets just be honest for a second, babe…you would stick that bitch in my side the minute some decent money was paid.*

-----------------------------------------------------------

How can he just show up here? Knowing what he knows? Knowing that night he left me in that bar in that city of sin was the worst damn night of my life. Knowing for three fucking years I rarely heard from him…never or not at all. Knowing that an apology was a long time coming…as a matter of fact it took too damn long.

I saw something inside of his skin. I just couldn’t shake his image out of my head. I thought that maybe there was half a chance that for once in this jaded existence i could maybe be worth it enough to someone. I thought maybe I could shine bright enough to be loved. And he made me feel so safe. he made me feel like I was worth every moment he could have gave.

And then he left me there…standing still with more than tears in my eyes. Gasping for air and I am trying ot understand how someone could speak so many words and react in such an insensitive style. Lets play a game…its called make a list of every sugar word he spoke to me and then lets place its weight on the mighty scale of justice and see if it outweighs the way he made me feel that cursed night he left me behind.

*amazing
*beautiful
*perfect
*angel
*all I want is you, flannel sheets, and a thunderstorm
*I think I love you
*I want you to lay next to me and just rest your head on my chest
*that’s why your middle name is nicotine (cuz girl im just so addicted to you)

Oh so addicted to me, right? Like he was addicted to the drugs, or the skinny girls or the old cars and fast times down Michigan roads. Oh yeah…he was real fucking hooked. Lord knows you always leave behind what you love the most…yeah, that makes sense.