i want to grind your bones up and snort them into my existance like cocain. like magic powder. each particle flying up into my bloodstream. hitting me immediately when i see you walk past. i know you like spring knows raindrops and autumn knows orange leaves. the bare soft palms of your feet and the way they feel under my fingers when i'm pressing out your stress. crooked nails softly scratching at my back in the most classy of establishments. subtle sarcasm, no one catches it but me. on the same drug, on the same high. it makes me so hyper, i scream. and that pretty white dust makes me smile like mad.

i wish i had a strong voice in my brain that said "you're thinking too much again, sarah."

i'm done trying to find a reason for being here.
that part is certian.

but i still can't stop myself from wanting someone to want me,
or caring about what happens next,
or what has happened before.

those are my dirty little infinates.
my rusty little dreams.

i want you to save me, even if it's only in a dream.

red nails scratching to let something out.
"STOP THAT SCRATCHING!"
they are silenced. frozen. they spread out and press on the sore to make it warm. cool it down with heat.

then they begin to move back and fourth again, they want to let it out.
"YOU STOP THAT! YOU HEAR ME!?"
but it's too late. the blood pours out, screaming, i want help. draining down her arm in streaks.

now his nails are moving, in a tapping motion. bored with this, ignoring this, tap tap tap on the table beside him.

"i know you see this." she wispers.

he looks over, tired. pushes himself up and walks toward her slowly. pulls up her arm when he gets there, close to his bony face. opens his mouth, licks up the blood in one long delicate motion, then kisses the opening. hard.

her arm tenses from the burn.

"let it go now." he says, his eyes trailing up to meet hers. "let it go."

finally.

finally you were back by my side, smiling.
and of course i was the only one who could touch you and i was bawling.
screaming about how much i'd missed you.

and your mother was always so angry at me,
but she was like splenda the way she faked sweetness.
i could hear her thoughts, pleading to me.
"he's my boy, let him go, he's my boy"

i didn't make you talk to me, i just made you hug me.
and that was enough before you left me for the second time.

kiss me, scratch me, love me, strangle me.

truth is colder than blind sun-kissed bliss.

i never wanted to have to learn.

but leaving it up to the abuser is what i do best.

hurt me.

you ran away down that gravel road of fear,
and i chased after you barefooted,
my heart pouring through my begging lips.

i was going to bring you home to me.
then you got high and flew right up there into the universe.
so i got high too, but it just sent me down a cliff.
and now im stuck here, hung over, picking rock pieces out of my feet.

waiting for you to leave your utopia, and save me from myself.

quietly i slipped into cheap 100 thread count sheets on a bed i knew nothing about.
and through all the itchiness, i could feel my blood pushing itself through my veins. through every inch of them. it would start in my heart and pulsate throughout my entire body; arms, legs, brain, neck, shoulders, toes. i contemplated the ups and downs and decided that this strange bed was a raft. i contemplated more, and decided i was unstable. i pushed myself to accept that i wasn't firmly planted, and i wished someone would turn on the gravity and pull me back onto shore. but i just floated away, and expected to stay lost in my dreams forever.