the paperback boy

your tightly clenched fists crash against my heart, again and again and again and again.
never enough for you;
i collide with the wall behind me, collapsing on the floor and trying to catch my breath.
but not crying, i can't cry. i'm biting my lip so hard i feel the blood trickle down my lip.

(i have to stay quiet for now,
you'll stop hurting me soon enough.
you'll start loving me again.
i know it. you'll be mine again.)

the impact of your next blow shakes the whole room, my bookshelf collapsing and you laugh,
not your laugh though;
it's bitter and hollow but i know there's some feeling somewhere in there, hidden deep inside.
i can't read you, the paperback boy with the bloody knuckles, fighting me while i'm not fighting back.

(you're like the pages of
something unread, something too
high up on the shelf for me
to read. please, come down.)

an empty look washes over your face, you aren't fully satisfied i made it out alive,
but it's enough;
because i'm drowning in blood and upside down smiles and the stars that used to be in your eyes.
no tears are in my eyes as the last gasp of air slips past my lungs until i am nothing but broken.

(you're used to shoving me aside,
but you're so close right now,
and i can't hold you much
tighter. it's just not fair.)

but the night is forgotten the next morning when you call, telling me your dad is kicking you out.
you say you're alone;
no place to go, your too far from home for it to be home anymore and you tell me you need me.
i know the feeling all too well, so i tell you it's okay, and i'll break my heart for you again.