i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon,
skipped breakfast and lunch,
days that fade slowly and end with
****** cut-out holes in eyelids because
the second i close them and it all goes black,
every moment with you comes back
played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly
that both our faces are blurred
and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you
is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with
suds that take forever to melt

i’ve given up on those days.

i’ve traded them for ones that begin with
sunrises instead of sunsets,
days that are spent falling forward
instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t
look back and see something broken, or
something that was better off left unopened

i look back and see our bodies so close together
that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends,
i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size,
i see you and me wrapped up in something that
i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm
and overdue and falling-apart library books
that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women
who are bored with their lives

and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all.

but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you
and taped them in the messy pages of my journal
and now i’m running into the sun,
running away from every lie that’s trying to
wedge its way in between my ribs,
running in the opposite direction of words like "regret"
and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it

because all of it was worth it.

every moment we were together pumps
through my veins, and it will always be there;
it will be there when we’ve both graduated,
when you move out west,
when you kiss your family goodnight,
when you sit in your backyard with tears
in your eyes because you’ve lived a life
you are proud of

it will be there when i finally make it to new york city,
when i kiss someone who isn’t you,
when i find the answers you inspired me to search for,
when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks
because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined

and you and i will live these lives apart,
we’ll move on and forget what it felt like
to wake up beside one another;
we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere
and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did

but what we had will always exist somewhere,
in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs,
in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and
red and white flashing lights that shine through
your window while you are asleep

you and i were magic,
we always will be.

I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.

it’s so frustrating because i know you wanted to be with me, on those days you drove almost an hour each way to see me and you kissed me so often and held me so tight and always pulled me closer and i could feel your eyes on me when i wasn’t looking, and we spent day after day like this, just being together and pretending that time could stand still, but at the same time, i feel like it was all just something for you to do while you were home, even though you deny it. i remember starting to tear up one afternoon with my head on your chest while you slept, because i knew it was just a matter of time till this was just a memory. i can’t picture you actually missing me, i can’t imagine you actually wishing i hadn’t said i was done with grey and in between. i feel like i’m so insignificant to you. like you have no feelings, like you couldn’t care less, this is just life, people come and go. and i know that, i know this is just life, and that people come and go, but it hurts that it’d never cross your mind to ask me to stay, that i was fun while i lasted, that you never wanted to make me yours. i’ll fade soon. i want to matter more to you. you’re a thinker, i’m a feeler, you hate that i’m so black and white. but i’m selfish and i want 3am texts that you can’t stop thinking about me and that you need to see me again soon. but that’s not who you are. and it’s unfair of me to want you to feel that way when you don’t. and it’s really okay, because if i extended my hand to you and you took it, i don’t think we would’ve gotten very far anyway. i loved being so close to you, but i’m excited to hold someone’s hand who doesn’t want to let go, to kiss someone who wants to kiss me forever, to not be anticipating an inevitable end, to be able to trust someone fully with my heart, to have someone that wants to hold it. and i don’t need that, i don’t need someone, i don’t need anyone. but if one day it’s what’s meant to be, i’ll let it be. i don’t want to be careless with my heart again. i don’t know why things happen the way they do, and i don’t regret you for a second, and i still think the world of you, but i’m too emotional and i fall too deep to give that much of myself again to someone who never asked for any of it in the first place.

It terrifies me that we only get a limited amount of time with people. And that some people get more time than others who should have. I’m forever envious of those who’ve gotten more time with you than I have. That I may never get to be with you as long as they have. That our time is running out. And I miss you already. And I never want to say goodbye. At first it was slow, late nights in your car and afternoons in my bedroom. But now it feels like it’s happening all at once, like you’re doing a snow angel on my heart and it keeps getting bigger and bigger. Kissing on the sidewalk, holding hands in your coat pocket because I forgot to bring gloves. Wandering around museums and having hard conversations on your couch that make me love you even more; even when the air becomes glass, I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I feel to know you. That there’s no one else like you. My heart aches in your arms and aches when we’re apart. And I just want to be as close to you as possible, for as long as possible, because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I love who I am when I’m with you.

my stomach is in knots
and i feel so sick thinking about you
holding anyone that isn’t me
and i don’t understand why you thought it’d be a good idea
to tell me that you’re falling asleep at night
with another girl in your bed,
even if you’re not kissing her goodnight,
i tried to drown out my sobs all day with
modern vampires of the city on vinyl,
but it still feels like someone
sunk fangs in my lungs

it’s only been a week, the cuts from your nails
from holding my heart so tight
are still fresh
and i never asked you to stop,
i never told you i wanted to try
to be more than friends again,
i never tried to paint your hands red,
but all you could seem to do is defend
yourself and repeat that you’ve done nothing wrong
“you said we’re just friends
you said we’re just friends
you said we’re just friends”

and we are just friends
i just wanted you to understand and acknowledge
that it still hurts

and you can say you’re sorry, you said sorry,
but i’m sure she’s tucked in beneath your sheets right now
and you’re still repeating in your head
i’ve done nothing wrong
i’ve done nothing wrong
i’ve done nothing wrong
we’re just friends
we’re just friends
we’re just friends

and i’m glad you’re comfortable,
i’m glad you know you’ve done nothing wrong,
i’m glad you have someone to hold at night,
i’m glad thoughts of me don’t rip your heart out,
i’m glad you’re okay with being just friends

i’m glad you’re fine,

but, i’m sorry,
i’m not.

you are the song
i want to listen to
in that cliché and timeless
3am moment on the highway
windows rolled
down with the
potential-filled and empty
yet comforting indigo
sky blowing past,
only car on the road
just us, me with my
feet up on the dash,
fingers interlocked with
yours on my lap,
headlights illuminating
the road and trees
ahead, can’t think about
anything else except
for the pulse of the night
and cold air on my skin
and oh God
this is my life and
i feel so alive

i hate that i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
and can see myself in the future
in our bed
with a cup of tea
and you lying next to me

and i hate that i can see myself turning out the light
and laying my head to rest
on your chest

i hate that i can see us sitting at a little round kitchen table
next to the window
you in your black rimmed glasses
scrolling through your phone
me with my hair ******* and one knee draw up to my chest,
eating a bowl of oatmeal as the sun creeps its way
into the middle of the sky

i hate that i can see us side by side
brushing our teeth in a cramped bathroom
in front of a foggy mirror,
listening to music as we get ready for the day

i hate that i can see us walking out the front door,
i hate that i can see us kissing goodbye

because i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
thinking about all of this,
thinking about you

yet i’ve already kissed you
goodbye.

is it new york i love
or do i crave being
near you; crave the
one in a million
chance that if we
were in the same city
we would run into
each other on the
sidewalk while i’m
on my way to buy
flowers and you’re
smoking a cigarette
dressed in all black
and i’d smile at you
and you’d grab me by
the wrists and scold
me for being away
for so long and then
i’d let you kiss my face
as you interlock your
fingers with mine and
you’d never let me go
again, you would
take me with you
wherever you went
and i’d never look back.

i want to dissolve into the sky
without a sound
without anyone noticing my empty space
in the most gentle and subtle way possible
i want to go away from here
i want to walk backwards and save myself
from what inevitability is ahead
i want to leave
i want you
to wish i’d stay

afternoon light shining in through the sheer curtains hanging over my bedroom window, on the most ordinary day of the week, your arms were around me and my head was on your chest as it slowly rose and fell, and you twitch as you’re falling asleep, and i never thought i could fall in love with the sound of someone snoring, but your sleepy inhales made my heart swell, and since then, the day has been a series of heavy exhales. i can feel the weight of you behind my ribs and in the corners of my mouth as i smile at the thought of kissing you, your laugh, the way your eyes look when they’re looking at me, the sound of your voice when you’re trying to get music to play in your car, how i feel when i can feel you next to me; i hope you don’t mind, but no matter what time or space is between us, you’ve written your name in the sand of my soul and no amount of wind or waves will ever be able to wash it away. the time we’ve spent together feels like seconds, but you will always exist in my memory as someone who held my hand as i walked into the sun.

you didn’t like the way i answered the phone,
and you thought it was gross that i liked mushrooms on my pizza,
and you told me i was weird-looking when i was a kid,
and once i sent you a tattoo and you said you didn’t like it, you didn’t know they were my words that were written on her body
you told me what “too much damage” meant on halloween after all the trick-or-treaters had fallen asleep
and when i kept silent for three days after,
and winced at every kissing scene on television, because they flooded the insides of my eyelids with images that made me feel very small,
you said i was being unfair
because i was the one who decided we were just friends,
and i told you we weren’t, you knew we weren’t
we couldn’t be after what we used to be

i told you i still had feelings that hadn’t gone away yet,
you said they hadn’t gone away for you either

i pictured you holding my hand

but then you said,
“that’s why it’s easier to run from them
and hide in other girls beds.”

you always told me every thought
that popped into your head, and i used to find it endearing,
i kept telling myself that you deserved my ear,
but i really hope you have nothing more to say
because, i promise, i’m done listening

so clear off your bedside table, and cut the
blue string that’s wrapped around your wrist if you’ve yet to do so,
and stop asking me if i miss you,
because this is me saying
i don’t.

Don’t forget to get away every once in awhile,
To lose yourself in a book
Or in the woods behind your home
Ride your bike into the sunset,
Sit on your front steps and count the cars passing by,
Lay on your roof and gaze up at the night sky,
Drive along backroads with the windows rolled down
Listening to nothing but the sound of rushing wind

I hope you take the time to be alone,
To sort through the cluttered shelves of your heart

I hope you take the time to be silent,
To close your eyes and just listen

I hope you take the time to be still,
To quiet your mind and experience the beauty
Of simply Being

In a world that tells us we should always be
Connected, on the go, and doing something worth sharing,
I hope you know it’s okay to
Disconnect, slow down, and keep some memories
Between you and the moment you shared it with.

The air feels like falling action,
It feels like this is coming to an end
I can see the curtains closing
And I don’t know why I haven’t cried or
Why my heart feels like it’s made of stone

Maybe this isn’t the end!
Maybe it’s a new chapter!
A rising sun!
A see you soon!
(How should I know to say goodnight and not goodbye?)

But if this does end
   If it’s a closed book
      A setting sun
         Never see you again
(How should I know to say goodbye and not goodnight?)

I know we tried,
I know we loved with full hearts,
I know it hurts to say goodbye.

It’s been three and a half months since we last spoke,
really spoke, not just guilty hellos
and scattered half-hearted pleas
And it’s not you, it’s never you
it’s me it’s me it’s me,
but you love
me
you love
me
you love
me

And my head has forgotten what it feels like,
but I know my heart is safe with you

Because you’ve never stopped chasing after me
and I’m tired of looking at my feet, telling myself
I’ll be okay without you, trying to navigate
through a thick forest at night,
pretending I don’t have matches at
my fingertips

You are the only thing
that has ever made me feel truly whole

I’m sorry I’ve kept my eyes shut so tight,
but I’m here now and I love you and I miss you

And I don’t want to keep living
like fragments of a person anymore

I’m Yours.

i guess you only like girls who are broken
and want to be hurt, like your hands
around her neck, want
bruises and cuts
in the shape of a heart,
inhaling and choking on your affection
like she needs it to breathe

translucent skin stretched across
veins that pump nicotine and you
you, you, you, you, you

judgement clouded by hyper-dependent
infatuation and the need to heal her
hollowness, although you’ll only ever be
another teardrop on her pillowcase
while she hums herself to sleep
with midnight lies

“the loss of you would be the loss of my life”

and the saddest part
is that i almost let myself fall
back into becoming that
lifeless, empty girl
once more because i thought it might
make you love me again.

i think we still exist
somewhere in the universe
behind the sun
where all of earth’s abandoned
soulmates go to rest
i think i can see us
when i look up at the sky
and squint directly into
the rays of light,
your brown eyes burning
into mine

i think we are together
in the time that trails behind
the present, dancing
in circles until the last stars
fizzle out

i think that our promises
seeped into the soil, like
february rain, our souls sown
together, tucked in
beneath the world

i think what we had is
somewhere just out of reach,
pulsing in the dim spaces
between heat lightning

and although, in this lifetime,
we became nothing but shadows,
monsters that linger on bedroom walls

we are there, we are alive,
and we are still in love.

i’m always all too conscious
of moments hanging in the air
like watching helium balloons slowly
fall down the wall to cover the ground,
i keep stepping on them till they pop

like looking out the window once the suns starts to set
and you can’t see the light fading, but then you
blink and you’re sitting in a dark room

sitting next to you
with eyes closed and breath held
in a moment
that doesn’t feel real

like i’m looking down at the earth
while standing on the moon

and i know i’ll miss it once it’s gone,
but i can’t seem to figure out
how to freeze the hours that feel like seconds
passing by and

then it’s time
to leave and i held your hand
while you drove me home,
thinking about how real everything felt
with the lights blurring past on the interstate,
how i wanted the road to go on forever,
watching you rap stupid songs and
talk about how to feel grown up
without really growing up
and then suddenly

it was gone,
like it was never there

and i sat on my bed
wishing i could walk back into
the hands on the clock and
your hands on my face, but it
disappeared, floated up to the ceiling
carrying my heart with it

and all i have now are
memories that feel like dreams

to play back in my head
until time fades back into you.

Curled up beneath the duvet
knees drawn up to chest
inhaling the smokey scent of my fleece
sown fresh nostalgia
I remembered how
we laughed and ate off chinaware
while sipping out of plastic cups
sitting by the fire pit
in the backyard
my eyes wandered
towards the woods at dusk
and I breathed
realizing we are just specks of dust
that glimmer in the light of our Creator.

he’s telling me about the girl at school
he can’t get out of his head,
and how he feels like
it’s always this chain of
"i don’t want all these people that want me,"
(i winced)
“and the one person i want doesn’t want me
in the same way.”
(i inhaled sharply)

i told him he’s overthinking it,
and when he asked, “how do you not?”
(i forgot to breathe)

my eyes got watery, but i blinked quickly
before they could settle
(i exhaled)

and replied,
“i'll let you know.”

i’ve never had feelings for anyone who could be good for me. i’ve never been interested in someone where a good, healthy relationship could’ve resulted, and maybe that’s why i’m so jaded, because everyone i’ve ever liked has just been a distraction or a house on fire— someone i know i shouldn’t be involved with, but i’ll give myself just a few more days to run around frantically with my hands over my eyes, peaking through the cracks between my fingers, searching for things i know i don’t really need, and then i’ll dash out and run down the driveway and the smog will linger for a little while, and the neighbors will complain, and i’ll sit on the curb with my forehead on my knees, holding nothing but intangible regret. next, i’ll either get over it, or obsessively think about him and the ashes smudged on the inside of my eyelids for longer than my sanity. i’ve never really liked someone and been able to daydream about the real possibility of us turning into something greater; of tire swings and painted mailboxes and overgrown, green lawns. it’s always been pretending and fake hope and melodramatic doom. i think it’s messed up my perception of having feelings for someone, because i can never take it seriously— either i know he’s not right for me, or i know the circumstances prohibit the possibility of us. it makes me never want to give anyone a chance (i can’t even see anyone worth chance-giving) because i know how it ends. i don’t like having this closed off heart so early on; i’m too young to be this bitter.

I don’t have a problem with saying too little, you don’t have to carve inspiration into a health room desk or vandalize a bathroom stall to get me to tell him how I feel. I have a problem with acting as if it’s four a.m. all day long and forgetting that you don’t need to know about my every mood swing: my Sunday highs and Tuesdays lows and Thursday nothings. I think my biggest fault is bothering you to tell me all the thoughts that have yet to cross your mind (and maybe wishing they had.) I want you to want to know everything I feel at any given moment: what I thought of this evening’s sunset and how long it took me to fall asleep last night and why track two of my favorite album makes me feel like I’m in a dream. I want you to want me to know why you painted your bedroom walls yellow and how often you floss your teeth and which day of the week you feel happiest on. But most of all, I want to know everything you feel, even before you’ve felt it.

I'm afraid to write about you because
Ink makes me feel everything,
And everything feels so much more real
When my cursive words smudge up against
The side of my hand and stain it blue
As my pen races to keep up with my heart

But it can't be real,
Because I thought I was moving on,
I thought I was growing up,
I thought I knew all of this was
Foolish and starry-eyed

I thought, I thought, I thought
But maybe I need to stop thinking
And just let myself feel;
Feel the butterflies you put in my stomach,
Feel the pure bliss you infuse into bloodstream

And maybe I don't need to know everything,
Like exactly what you're thinking
Or exactly how I feel
Or how all of this is going to turn out

I guess what I'm saying is that
Everything isn't always going to be clear,
I may come up to "two roads in a yellow wood"
And not be absolutely certain which one I'm meant to take,
But I do know that whichever path I choose,
I'd like to be able to scan the trees and smile
Because you're there walking alongside me.

are hands and knees that hit the floor
and crawl back towards what i’d sworn off before
weak, or brave
is it braver to run in the opposite direction
or to stay even when it stings
because when we’re in your car
i know what the crickets outside
are thinking, is it true
am i throwing white sheets over old reminders
written in dust, small whispers leading up
to an attic where all the hurt and confusion is stored
in cardboard boxes labelled DO NOT OPEN

right now i’m sitting on the stairs
with my back against the door
and i’m looking at your face, your face, your face
searching for something maybe i didn’t see before
and the words you wrote at two in the dark
made me miss you when i promised i didn’t,
and i want to stay, but when i try
to convince myself that you’re right,
that pushing you away is the easy way out,
that what we feel is a reason to keep each
other around,
i still find it hard to believe myself
when i tell myself
that i am being strong

Here’s something you seldom hear: don’t always listen to your heart. Because if your heart is like mine, it’s often fickle and confused. Emotions aren’t always true, they may come and go with the wind. Feelings trick us into believing lies. You look in the mirror and feel inadequate. You hear something so many times that you start to believe it’s true. You take a situation and manipulate it till it’s something completely false. But it’s time you start listening to your head: you may not be in control of what you feel, but you are in control of how you handle those feelings. Look in the mirror and tell yourself, “I know I am beautiful.” Refuse to believe the lies. Remind yourself of your many wonderful qualities. Don’t read too far into things, take them as they are. Worrying doesn’t change tomorrow, it just makes today more troublesome. Decide to be happy. Decide to be okay. Don’t believe everything you feel.

i don’t want to be someone who writes in pencil
and eats too slowly and walks with eyes that
are glued to the sidewalk and tops of strangers’ feet
i’ve been underwater for so long that
i’ve forgotten lungs are meant
to be filled with air; exhaling seems
more like something found
on the second star to the right, rather
than a process that is meant to be
done twenty-three thousand times a day

i feel like an old woman who
looks in the mirror and all she can see
are wrinkles and white hair and tired eyes and
the absence of who she used to be

but i am not someone who turns away
from sunsets and pretends
that darkness is all i’ve ever known;
someone who thinks
the sun will never rise again

because the sun will rise again—
the words hiding inside of me will
find their way out, because
i cannot hold my breath forever

i am not someone who writes in pencil
and erases the bits that are too
honest and too imperfect and too real
to claim as thoughts of my own

i cannot keep my lips pursed and
hands tied behind my back,
i cannot keep pretending i am
a shadow of who i used to be

my tomorrows hold suns much
brighter than ones that have risen
over horizons of my past;
i have not reached the summit yet

there is so much more me
for me to become

each day, i am new.

i find myself
starting out waiting room
windows,
my eyes follow the footsteps
of the strangers below
as i dream about below apart
of their everyday monotony,
because what may be a
dully, normal, tasteless
indifferent thursday to them
would be an adventure
to me

i wanted you to love me on purpose.

I will not ask you to stay

If you must go, go
I don't need you
I will breathe (carefully) without you
I will smile (slowly) without you
I will go on (eventually) without you

I'd be much happier
If you chose to not leave,
But if you must let go, let go
And I will too

Hopefully one day
I will teach my heart to not break
Whenever everyday thoughts
Lead to you

I'm afraid I'm much too weak,
I'm afraid we'll always be
A book with the end pages ripped out,
I'm afraid I'll always wonder,
Always ache,
Always place everyone second to you

I'm afraid I'll always love you,
But I will not ask you to stay

03:00
When I think about never speaking to him again, I picture a girl walking in a crowd that’s all moving in the same direction, and then suddenly she drops everything she’s holding and turns around and starts running as fast as she can, smiling and pushing past everyone till finally she reaches an open space and her face looks like sunshine as her hair blows behind her in the wind and she’s free she’s free, oh God, she’s free.

03:15
But then I think about walking into a doctor’s office ten years from now and sitting on a cold metal table, staring at my legs dangling off the edge, waiting. And then I look up as the door opens slowly, not expecting to see his tattooed arms hidden in a lab coat, but there he is and, oh God, his eyes haven’t changed, and I can’t breathe, and he just stands there, looking at me like an unfinished sentence. Then I’d have to let him put a stethoscope to my chest and listen to my heart and I wonder what it’d sound like, if it would sound like messy half beats of missing him. If he’d be able to tell. If he’d care.

03:30
Or maybe the next time I see him, if I ever see him again, we’ll both be whole versions of ourselves, content and in good places, our lives all sorted out and how we always hoped they’d be. And maybe we’d be able to talk about the weather and our kids and the lives we created apart. And maybe I’d be able to look at him with only feelings of pleasant acquaintance and relative indifference, not seeing the boy I fell for when I should’ve been focused on catching myself.

03:45
And I know I should find comfort in thinking about how one day I may look at him and feel nothing,

04:00
but it’s four in the morning and I don’t want to let go.

I'd rather have scars on my cheeks
   And a crooked nose and
Bad skin and boney hips
   Or boring eyes and boring hair and a boring mouth
And someone tell me
   “You’re beautiful,”

Because I’d know they meant
   I am beautiful in the way that I talk,
In the way that I listen, in the way that I love,
   In the way that I am

Than have

   Pretty lips and pretty teeth and
Pretty hair and a pretty nose
   And ignorantly believe
That being beautiful in the way that I look
   Is enough.”

Time isn't wasted at the end of the day
When you're in bed thinking about all the things
You could've done,
You could've said,
All the empty boxes left on your to do list

Time is wasted
When you're standing on a rock at the edge of a waterhole
And decide to not jump
When you're sitting in your car trying to justify reasons
For not going in
When you anxiously hit backspace
Instead of expressing how you truly feel
When you ignore your heart that's screaming
"You deserve better."

It's lost in I could have and I should have,
In missed opportunities,
In letting fears override judgement

Time is not necessarily wasted
In passing minutes, months, years
We waste time by
Counting seconds,
And by letting seconds pass
When we could've made
Those seconds count

i don’t know how someone as small as me
with bones that break at the sight of heat lightning
and heart strings that thread apart at the sound of his voice
could make anyone feel like the sun shines brighter
through kaleidoscope eyes—
you’re okay if it brings out the freckles on your face,
and you feel good, you feel alive
you say i showed you how to love in a new way,
that i taught you to be so much more okay with your tummy,
“it’s been very freeing and life is a lot better, thank you,”
but i feel like i can’t say you’re welcome
because i am a messy cliché of imperfect scraps and hypocrisy
loosely sewn together with
“you are strong you are strong you are strong,”
but i feel so weak i feel so weak i feel so weak
and i am not steady hands, they shake like
wet dogs after kiddy pool baths,
i am flower seeds that forgot how to bloom,
trapped below the surface of a garden that feels like quicksand
and i’m sorry but you don’t see all the mistakes i make,
all the words i’ve preached that look back at me
and laugh when they see
what i feel, what i think, who i am behind closed doors,
i’m sorry.
you keep hanging medals around my neck, and
they’re so heavy, and i don’t know
what to say besides i love you
when you speak words of adoration,
but please do not praise me, i am not good.

it’s unsettling how many people i’ve had to beg to forget me, lately. how many i’ve tried to convince that i really am as insignificant as a stranger you made eye contact with for a moment at the stoplight. for so long i was begging so many people to stay, to keep holding onto me, even if it wasn’t in their best interest. all i wanted was to be selfishly adored. now all i want is to be left alone.

you can either
keep yourself up at night
wondering
          "why me?"
you can hide under your covers
and tell everyone
you're wrong and you'll
never be right

or you can see all this
          heartbreak
          pain
          conflict
          imperfection
as an opportunity
to emerge from the concealed depths
to the gleaming luminescence
and become stronger

it is your choice to decide
whether to drown in your troubles
or to courageously survive

because the harder the struggle
the more spirited you become in the end
         "the deeper the mud
         the more beautiful the lotus blooms"

I used to pray that I’d never be loved by
anyone I couldn’t love back,
but then I remembered how many mountains
I grew strong enough to climb when
you didn’t love me back
and I realized that
there’s no use in praying for
the absence of pain
because it will always find you
whether it be through sunburn or aching silence
and broken bones grow back stronger
so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt
I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your
elbows and learn to not pick at
the scabs on your knees
and that you’ll stand up more times
than the wind knocks you down
And that you’ll find ways to appreciate
the circles beneath your eyes, but
still hold onto the hope that one day
you will count your scars and smile because
you are proud of how far you’ve come
and how much you’ve grown, and
you’re not just surviving, you are alive.

it’s strange to think
you will only remember me
as the person i was with you

you’ll never learn of my new habits,
nor will i ever come to know yours
i won’t get to watch you grow,
see you become strong,
hear about all of your new
adventures and revelations

no, i am only left
with who you were

we’re both frozen in time
in each others’ memories

ask me how many boys have told me they loved me,
then ask me how many of them meant it.

i found you
but you’ve found
someone else
so i will not let you know

i’m choking on
questions like
was i foolish for
thinking your heart
could still beat for me?
and
am i selfish for
wishing it did?

i found you
but i know
you are better off
with me hiding
in the trees

i will not let you know.

I’m at the point where I can go from feeling so much to so little in an instant. My emotions are all disarray. I feel like my veins are pumping potential energy, heart beat-beat-beating in anticipation for all the things that are about to happen in my life. Growing up is weird. I’m learning and changing and evolving and it doesn’t feel like summer that passes and it’s August and you’re wondering where all the time went… every day I feel time whizzing past; if the hands on the clock rotate any faster it’ll fly off my desk and out the window. I am so many things, and I’m training my eyes to find possibility in every second, to not let time get away from me, to not let myself live in a time that hasn’t even come yet. There is so much I want to do, so much I want to see, so much I want to create, so much I want to be. I’m chasing light and I’m discovering who I am and what I want to do and how I want to live and I’m aching to praise my God with every breath.

I think the scent of bug spray on my palms will now forever remind me of you and the late night (early morning) we spent sitting in your car, drawing awfully unskillful portraits on the back of each other’s hands in 
dim light and 3 a.m. stillness. (I wonder if you could tell that doodling on your skin was just an excuse to touch you.) I wanted so badly to let my fingers find yours 
as we laid back in our seats 
and peeked out the rolled down 
windows at the infinite stars scattered above us in the 
early August night sky. I told you I wouldn’t kiss you, 
because I know my heart and 
how relentlessly it would 
replay how your lips felt on mine, and how it would ache knowing
 you couldn’t be mine,
 so I let you kiss my cheek instead,
 and the half a moment that I felt 
your unshaven face brush mine in the middle of the street at five in the morning feels like a fake memory. When you looked at me, I wanted to hide, because I was too afraid to read what words might’ve been written in your eyes, but I felt so content listening to the 
deep tone of your voice 
mix with the obnoxiously loud crickets singing in the trees 
surrounding us. I could’ve sat there with you till the stars disappeared and the sun took their place, but you walked me back home, and you left in the dark, and now I’m sitting in my bed thinking about how the hours between 2 and 5 a.m. have never felt so full.

it’s difficult
to romanticize the past
or even
remember it as
genuine
when i keep discovering
more and more each day
that everything
you said,
and everything you
promised,
and everything
i thought was true,
was not.

why do i crumble
fall into pieces of
oats and sugar
something beautiful
in a white bowl, but
a mess on the floor
when i wake up
in an empty house
why do i wither like
brown leaves
under brand new and
borrowed boots atop
autumn sidewalks
when i’m alone,
i’m alone,
i’m alone
it is not enough
to eat breakfast
however small
to wash my hair with
coconut milk
to not step out into
the busy street;
i freeze before the ice
touches me
i do not allow
the chance to warm
my own hands
i lie down, on
***** sheets,
and wait for someone
anyone
anything
to awaken me

i saw you outside
on my roof tonight
with your messy hair
and cigarette glowing
between your fingertips and
you wouldn’t leave but
you wouldn’t come in
and i kept staring as you
blew puffs of smoke
with your back against my
bedroom window and
i wanted to get up and crawl
outside and sit behind
you and draw pictures on
your back of all the things
i didn’t know how to say but
my blankets felt like lead
so i whispered to my pillow how
much i love you and then
the sun began to rise
and you looked back at me
with ashes beneath your
eyes and i told my pillow
i wish you’d stay
but you didn’t you
never do

i thought it’d be poetic
to leave you the same way i found you,
with a contentless text—
a simple entered space
(i knew you wouldn’t catch it)
although you seem to be someone
who thinks very deeply about all someones,
your thoughts about me are puddles
disguised as over-complimenting oceans

and i really do not know
what i am or what i’ve been to you,
or if i’ll be able to keep myself away
from you, or why you’d drive hours
to see me in the middle of the night
when you “plan on kissing at least one
girl in the next three months,”
(could care less if it’s me)

"what would i be waiting for," you asked.

i’m barefoot, chasing a train i know
is on tracks that lead away from where
i want and need to be (but i liked the way
it felt when your hand touched mine)

glad i never gave you any piece of my heart,
because you’re the type of boy who’d
rip it to shreds, hide your claws
behind your back, and tell me that
i should’ve seen it coming
(though you would’ve been right)

maybe you’re just bored,
and that’s why you decorate
your skin with ink and don’t care
about whose lips you’ve touched,
and i wish i could figure you out,
wish i could draw a perfect portrait
with my words (or even just
my thoughts) of who you are,
but i won’t pretend i know you

i hate you and your ***** tattoo
(but i don’t really hate you,
i hate the way i let you make me feel.)

i want to dye
my hair and tattoo my skin
so that the changes
you’ve been noticing in me
look like they’re
on purpose.

one time when i was eight
i slept over at my friend’s house
and that night we held back
her mom’s hair as she got sick
over a broken heart
into a trashcan at
the foot of her bed
and i didn’t understand
how someone could be so sad
but right now, lying
on the bathroom floor
getting sick over you, i do.

i want to take the bits of you i love
and press them like flowers
between the pages of my favorite book

and i want to take all the scraps
that you dislike in yourself
and display them on my refrigerator
to show you i’m still proud
of the person you are
and the person you are becoming

but most of all, i want to spin you like a globe
and drag my finger across till it stops
to discover the pieces of you
that you’ve yet to reveal to anyone else

i want to wrap them up in linen
and place them in an old cigar box,
i’d tuck it away safely
in the top drawer of my bedside table,
so you know i’ll never let
those pieces of you go

because when you share
hidden parts of yourself
with someone else,
you’re trusting that person
to hold the secret sections
of your heart
and to love the bits
you thought
were unlovable

when i asked if he had any tattoos, he said
not yet. but if i do, it’ll be to do with God or you.

it has been
76 days
since he
scratched
out
my name
from
his heart
and moved
onto
you

it’ll be to do with God or you.

i wonder if that line gave you butterflies, too.