Poems For People Who Don't Deserve Them

Trial Period

I can't breathe.

He was the only person that completely understood what I was going through. With my mother. He knew what I was feeling, knew how to make me feel better. The way he would look at me with those old, bright blue eyes would just make me feel like I was home. He didn't touch me much, but when he did it was like all my senses stood to attention. I could feel the warmth of his skin seep through the fabric of my clothing. When he would hold my hips from behind while I was talking to someone, or lean over and rest his head on my thighs- I felt special. His hand was bigger than mine but it fit perfectly in my own, and when we would walk close to each other he would touch my hand and take hold of my pinky so my short legs could keep up. He promised to never leave me alone or put me in a situation that would make me uncomfortable, or put me in danger. Little did I know I was holding hands with a situation just like that, but I wanted it.

Forehead kisses and the way he held me when we cuddled were my addiction. He didn't kiss me a lot but when I got them I craved them more every time. But the day came where he stopped coming around, stopped texting and stopped answering. The way I am, if you don't want me- tell me. Don't just… Disappear from my life like you were never there in the first place. Because you were. Your very essence is burned into my being and no matter how much I yell and scold myself I can't stop my train on thought from crashing into your memory. It doesn't help that everywhere I go, we went together. They say not to go for the young ones but this wolf just couldn't resist the smell of the baked goods- literally.

Don't tell me you caught feelings and not be there when I start falling, don't promise me you'll be there and not answer my call. Don't be my light out if this depression and then leave me in the dark. Just… Don’t, please don't give me a breath of fresh air and then punch me in the gut, my lungs are swelling with smoke from your cigarette.

My heart was already broken from the loss of my mother, but who knew that a boy could take those pieces and put them back together. But this time, he put them in backwards.

There are holes and I'm seeping through them, there are cracks and I'm peeking through them. I'm in a glass bowl and the water is pouring in, I'm banging on the glass but no one can hear the screaming. This is not what I anticipated, this is not what I wanted. But I find that all I want now is…

I can't breathe.