constant.

i don't write about you
anymore
because i'd like to deny
you're a constant in my life.
from beginning to end
of "the best years"
you will haunt me
in ways you never would
have imagined.
i have no trust for love
because you
taught me it only hurts.
it turns friends to enemies
and crushes into bad mistakes.
who would think
that a chubby fourteen year-old
would steal my faith?
enrapture me to the point
that i fail classes?
distress me to the point
i cut off all my hair
slice up my wrists
pop 10 to 12 Advil a day?
yes
you made me that way.
but i've changed.

i get mostly B's
don't take Advil for weeks
haven't cut in 8 months
and my hair's grown back.
but it's not all like that
i still hurt
because of the lies you told
still crave my razor when i'm upset
still remember the kiss on my neck.
you haunt my pen
when i write about lust and love.
you are a constant
reminder of my life and times.
a great comparison
from the fragile girl i was
to the half-healed one i am
and you're an empty man
at least that's what i tell myself
when thinking about
what could have been.
but i'm just me
and you're just
another constant.