i still feel sick to the stomach when i think of nate
and how he's still seeing his girlfriend (and how happy they look)

when i'm on the train, i always hope that he'll get on at his station
or we'll get on the same bus

i just want to talk to him
i still want him

and i don't know why 

two stones lost 
a beating Heart gained 

adoration for my
 chewed down nails
kissing my cheek
after blood stained sheets 

bruises from a thumb
indented on my wrist
friction in between
my milky white thighs