Part One: Scars

One
If I could, I would nail these hands to the edges of stars.
I would sacrifice this body to the sky
hoping to resurrect as someone spiteful enough to not care about you anymore.

Two
Staple me to a cross.
Pierce my side with a broken promise, and I will bleed
all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance.

Three
Loving you is the last thing that I felt really good at.

Four
You wanna know how I got these scars?
See I ripped every last piece of you out of my smile.

Five
I whispered you stardust.

Six
I spoke you into sunflowers.

Seven
I dipped my hands in forever. I touched you infinity.
Treated you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen
inside of a gas chamber.
I was good to you.
Eight
You wanna know how I got these scars?
See I swallowed my pride,
and then it clawed its way out of my mouth.

Nine
I realized that I was never really your boyfriend.
I was just your fucking hype-man.

Ten
I hope your next boyfriend gets smallpox.

Ten
Yes I said smallpox.

Ten
I hate you.

Ten
But I still miss you.

Ten
And a part of me still loves you.

Ten
It's hard for me to count when I get emotional.
Ten
I heard that over ninety percent of human interaction is
non-verbal so

[Pause]

Ten
If I could, I would tie your arms to a daydream
and then auction you off to my fondest memories.

Part Two: To the New Boyfriend

To the random dude who started dating my ex-girlfriend two days after we broke up -

yes, I saw that shit on Facebook. Now when I realized that you were in a relationship with the girl that I thought I would someday spend the rest of my life with, I walked outside, I said to myself

"There is no way Ashton Kutcher is gonna catch me off guard." I waited 45 minutes. And then I realized that there hasn't been a new episode of Punk'd in damn near four years. So I guess I'm the only practical joke in this entire situation.

One
The first time I saw you and her in a picture
I wanted to take my entire arm, shove it inside of the computer
and snatch the happiness right off of your face.

Two
If I ever see you in the street,
I'm probably gonna punch you in the throat.
Three
I apologize in advance.
And I know, I know that it makes no sense to have
this much anger towards a man
that I've never actually met face-to-face.
But, my definition of love is being robbed in an alley
eight times in a row and hoping there is
something about today that makes all of this different.
There is nothing logical about cutting off
the most important parts of yourself and then putting
them inside of hands that shake, that tremble,
that crack like a Haitian sidewalk.

Four
There is nothing rational about love.
Your love stutters when it gets nervous,
your love trips over its own shoelaces.
Love is clumsy, and my heart refuses to wear a helmet.

Five
Cupid is fucking irresponsible
and I'm tired of him using me for target practice.

Six
I was told that time would heal all wounds.
But what exactly do you do on days
when it feels like the hands on your clock have arthritis?

Seven
She always wore her heart on her sleeve.
So tell me then, why the hell do you look so familiar?

Eight
I think I've seen you somewhere in her smile,
like I've heard your voice in her laughter,
like I've smelled your cologne her thighs.
I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints we would only find yours.

Nine
I have this envelope,
it's full of all the butterflies I felt the first time
she relaxed the Velcro on her lips and smiled in my direction.
I think most of them are still alive.
I guess these belong to you too.