Spoken Word

Spoken word poetry is by far the most raw and efficient way to express in my opinion. Im in love with the format. Here are four of my poems. They're in chronical order. Maybe you can make out a story? (If you follow me on Instagram, you've already read these)
//my favourite baked good//
He was beautiful
He felt like a rose on my more than thorn body
A firefly on a cold dark night, a beach at dawn
He was electric
The sparks like the bouncing of neurons in my,love blind brain. I was in shock.
I didnt baby proof the sockets that couldve been fatal, something I regret not doing.
He was a tv show that should've gone on air but was cancelled due to budget cuts, i had invested in that story from the moment it was on the drawing board.
He was perpetually hypothetical.
His arms around my waist, my lips against his, i was on fire. He was stone cold. 
He twisted up my neck like poison ivy, my eyes locked in his. I could not breathe, but he sang.
He was not a monster, but my life was in his hands, and i was scared for it.
I was scared for my life even though he kept it in a safe, safe enough so that I won't get hurt.
Truth is, he was a coward.
I was ready with an arsenal of weapons and that man was overwhelmed by needles.
I say it again, he wasnt a monster. But what are monsters? The dreams i had of him seem like nightmares. He was never under my bed or in my closet, he was in my lungs, constricting every breath I took.
He was hypothetical but what in this world isnt? We run on what ifs and would haves. Love IS a hypothesis but we were never in love.
He was electric in the way he made me think of things that arent real. The way he had me daydreaming without giving me a single hint as to where he would take my heart 
He never took it anywhere. It is still in its 26 walled cage, protected and yet brutally battered.
Oh but he was beautiful. The way his words wrapped me in a cocoon of cold warmth. A fake sense of security. 
His words were the most beautiful thing about him.
But my mind wont stop saying,
He was beautiful
And i agree
He was beautiful, past tense.
//I wish i hadn't known love//
I hadn't known addiction but I know you.
Writing about you is like a swig of alcohol. 
The withdrawal symptoms go away when I pen you down.
The sweet relief to feel you beside me, the strong sense of what was.
What was? I'm not too sure about that, I never was sure but it could've been something more than hidden letters and ink spilling on my skin. The ink was invisible to you.
It could've been more than incomplete confessions and delinquent dreams, it could've been more than what was.
We were on the brink of something gorgeous. I needed you to trust me and jump. I know it wouldn't have been a utopia once we got there. It would've been messy and ugly at times. We would scream and watch each other break down because of one another. But we would have had moments of bliss. Pure bliss that would've made it worth the pain. 
You aren't mine to miss oh but I miss you so much it feels like my body is giving up on me, that very body that you once so delicately marked.
Marked me, yes but never touched and thank god for that because if you had, you would've burnt me and I could've never tended to those burns.
I can still feel your fingers lingering on my cheeks and it amazes me how real it feels even if it is not something I've felt before.
Maybe you think about me from time to time and maybe you touch the pages of the book I gave to you, thinking about the way we'd laughed then. 
But that's just a maybe in the sea of uncertainties and i know better than to invite them to dinner every night. 
I am uncertain about a lot of things when it comes to you but you'd be fooling yourself if you tell me you never felt anything.
I remember once you told me that I was too special to fall in love with an asshole like you. That doesn't help me honey, I'm not special. You, on the other, are an asshole. But the only reason why I'd ever call you that is because you didn't give your heart a chance. 
Things that can happen in 48 hours:
i. A stomach twisting "Can we talk?" from someone you had almost given up on. Your mind goes into overdrive and your heart beats faster than a speaker playing a song on 220 beats per minute. It's not something one would want to experience again.
ii. Being handed a glimer of hope on a silver platter that you know is made of lead. You know it's not meant to be. It's a last meal on death row. It's that hail mary pass that no one can catch. But you still try.
iii. A night of beauty, maybe just for old times sake. You do it out of habit and it feels as if nothing really went wrong. It feels so perfect that you can almost forget how you were falling apart within your fragile body.
iv. The dawning of that fact that something did go wrong. Overcoming that wasn't child's play and you realize how wretched one has to be to unravel everything you had worked so hard to keep sewn. 
v. Months worth of negotiating gets squeezed into 24 hours because everyone knows it's better to work things out as quickly as they come up. You're worth more than undecided fantasies and thoughts that weren't thought through. 
vi. You sleep on it. Hoping that it'll work out but knowing that it won't. (I knew from the get go what the answer would be. I don't know why I hoped you'd say anything otherwise.)
vii. We say our goodbyes once again. It's easier this time but hurts just the same. That pain isn't a shooting pain, though. This isn't like last time. It's more of a chronic fatigue that I've grown akin to. We turn around with some sort of closure that maybe first loves are just a terrible way of teaching you that fairytales are just in books. You won't find a prince charming no matter how many frog you kiss. (Trust me I've kissed my fair share of those). You'll get over it though. Time heals everything, even the heart. You'll love again but you don't know how long that'll be from right now.
viii. You think to yourself why did they even try to get back in again? You had closed down the shop, put up a sign and walked away. Why did they run after you if they had no intention of staying? (Was it to save something we had or did you just want to save yourself?)
//please don't love me//
You warned me not to feel.
You told me, listen, babygirl, don't get hurt
Because I don't like breaking hearts, least of all yours so please don't love me.
You told me on nights we played games that  games weren't real 
Because reality is far-fetched from the dices we throw and i dont do reality so please dont love me.
You said it over and over, don't think of me as your knight, i dont know how to fight for you because I'm fighting within myself so please dont love me.
And on the nights when I was a princess. I was a princess you were in awe of, you didnt say anything but i know you were thinking it. Babygirl you're not my princess, I'm just a place keeper for the one who deserves you so please don't love me. 
And on the days you made me laugh. At myself. At you. At my inability to see without specially cut shiny blocks made of sand, i was looking at you. At how your eyes shined when you were happy. But i knew not to fall in love with a boy so uncertain of himself that he didnt know when to laugh. 
You still say it now. After all this time. Hear me when I say this, babygirl, I can't love you. I dont know how to so please dont love me. 
But I have a horrible taste for broken men, my love. I didn't know it then but I was already in deep the first time you said it.

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