To What’s-Her-Face (Whom I’ve Loved Forever)

To what’s-her-face, whom I’ve loved forever – who since I got dropped by I never stopped to not think of while driving, who’s probably somewhere well and thriving –

I am made of bees and hornets; I drink pesticide to quell them and I’ve got some really intriguing thoughts and in an hour or two I just might tell them to you – let’s go smoke a jack – I can’t relax around these people. Cute of you to come along, just cute of you to be there looking perfect in the chaos at the bottom of a stairwell and there’s moths divebombing touch lamps and the flicker made the night air more mysterious – I miss you and I’ve wasted all my time and I’ve got nothing but this longing and a heavily trained eye that only sees you – in old movies, in new tv shows, in truly awful situations where the girl can’t even say my name right.

To what’s-her-face, whom I’ve loved forever – I lied when I said I would try to be better. I failed and I understand why you would never need me in your life, need to be together, you were right and that’s worse – I’m supposed to be smart. And you told me it hurts and I ripped out your heart and went to the bar after, still claiming I cared.

I am made of bees and hornets; you were right to run away. But I would do anything to trade the buzz to watch you lay with your head nestled in my shoulder twitching as you fall asleep. To what’s-her-face, whom I’ve loved forever, I really do mean anything.

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~ by perfectionatrix on May 19, 2016.

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