muse.

and you said i could be your muse. 8/3/09.

i should've taken a hint from myself when i
referred to your eyes as "icy."
the arctic blue was full of such heat at the time,
i didn't really realize that it was all just deception.
you asked me a simple question and i melted,
melted like when you put your hands on me.
lust defines you.
everything about you was wrong.
your age, your habits, my relationship with you.
i was supposed to be somewhere else,
with someone else.
instead, i found myself with your hand on my thigh,
my hand on your cheek.
my lips on yours, and yours on mine.
i still feel my stomach drop like it did when i remember it.
i felt like a sponge, eager to absorb
any f*****g scrap of attention you threw my way.
when we walked, we held hands,
and then you would put your arm around me.
pull me away from anything or anyone that got in my way.
it was the cutest damn thing.
and that way you looked at me when you showed me off.
i knew you wanted me.
i guess i didn't know i was so easy to throw away.
like a child with a new toy,
you gave me five minutes of attention before throwing me aside.
onto the next toy.
the next pretty thing to look at that you
fucked with until the batteries gave way,
and then you tossed it into a pile of discarded s**t.
no one has ever made me feel so special one minute,
and so worthless the next.
its funny, how much i would have done for you, if you asked.
i still ask myself why.
that question never ceases to gnaw at me,
wondering why you're so worth everything.
worth holding up when you're drunk,
just to put your body against mine.
or inhaling the secondhand smoke of your cigarettes,
just to be close to you.
and hurting one of the most important people in my entire world,
just for six lazy kisses from you.
you suck. you f*****g suck.
i'm sorry.