the boys i've loved and the end of the world

this is me confessing that i'm still in love with you

i hope you think of me.

i hope you think of the slope of my nose and the arch in my brows.

i hope you think of the rise and fall of my chest with every breath i took, how i breathed for you.

it was all for you.

i hope you think of the wrinkles in the corners of my eyes when i smiled, and i hope you think of how i'll never smile at you again.

i hope it hurts.

i hope the syllables of my name are printed in black ink on your tongue and i hope she sees the mark i left on you, oh no it may not have been good but by god it is permanent.

i hope her name feels out of place between your teeth because you were so used to saying mine.

you see, from the very beginning i wanted to engrave myself into you, i wanted to embed my signature with melted gold and red lipstick, i wanted it to look pretty, but we were over so fast i had to scratch it into your chest with my hands.

i still have your blood encrusted beneath my fingernails, like i still have the shreds of our Polaroid pictures that i never quite grew angry enough to throw away.

i hope you haven't let go of me yet. please don't let go of me.

i hope you think of me, because all i do, is think of you.