That summer burned me out from riding on the backs of yellow buses 
I was fragile and naive and I wish that I could say I’m better now, but I’m not
But it’s only because I never saw the point in faking my laugh in front of you
I wasn’t like your other friends, I tried to make you see that, but you said I didn’t have to be any more than I am

Like boys always do, 
you pushed me to do things I never would’ve, flipping coins and saying psych
Infatuation was knocking down the door to my once self-preserving nature
There were no secrets except for scratches in my throat in the middle of the night
Scratches of pennies on lottery tickets 
and Newport smoke from my grandparents, 
thinking of asking about love

I’ve been on our long walks home for some time now.
In a broken wooden box, alone 
I know better than to think you’ll come back 
at least want to hurt me like old times
At least then you’d want something to do with me 

I saw your dad in the store the other day and hoped you were out waiting in the car
That I’d walk by and you’d see that I’ve been better than you left me
All along I’ve fallen down a well kicking and screaming hearing only your wishing,
That something inside of me would break into the pieces that you wanted 

I starved all the way home, crying in the masks that I wore for you
The winter didn’t forgive me for my filthy thoughts 
the wind bit me at 5 pm on Wednesdays painted orange
Maybe I could assert my dominance, clench my teeth, and hold onto the bitter sentiment that

I have ruined beautiful things for you, but you never did see them.

another poem?