You are not what I am looking for
not the flashlight in a power outage
not my mother’s hand when crossing a busy street
not a glass of wine in the middle of a stressful week.

You are not kind or creative
you are not clever or desirable
you are not unique.

You are drunk
pulling on my skirt
pleading for permission that I’m too weak to deny

I am trying to blend in with the walls
as I watch you stumble down the hall to grab my waist
You are not what I am looking for.

You are bored and pessimistic
you are "I love you" one night
you are “I don’t want you” the next day
either way you are hovering over my chest
your fingers laced with my flesh
you are not what I am looking for.

You are a broken promise
you are the winter tree who refuses to grow leaves again the spring
you don’t believe in seasons
you are resistant to any change.

You are “I’ll stop” but never when you should
you are leaving me before I have the chance to leave you
running down the stairs screaming “catch me if you can”
unaware that I am anchored to my stance.
you are not what I am looking for.


You are a text that I usually leave blank
you are the shot of whiskey that finally leaves me drunk in the passenger seat of your car
you are playing really awful music
really loud.

You are “please, just this once” until 4 a.m.
I say “then will you let me sleep”
you smile as you steal opportunity from my heavy eyelids
you are an empty coffee cup and an awkward silence
the following morning
you are not what I am looking for.

You are “What if I never fall in love”
you are “I don’t want to be alone”
you are chain smoking  after an argument
you are using me
you are uncertainty
you are not what I am looking for.

Writing a thousand
angst filled lines
isn't soothing
my ache

I could sit here and write you a thousand poems
Millions of letters thrown across a page
In attempts for you to understand
That I'm truly and undoubtedly
In love with you.
And I know with all my heart
That you love her.
It kills me inside to listen
You trip up on your words with laughter
Because just thinking about her
Causes you to lose yourself in thought.
You scrunch up your nose a little
And a smile toys at the edge of your mouth
As your fingers twist at your clothes or hair
Usually you sigh slightly leaning forward looking off
And I watch you fall for her more and more each day.
You're beautiful when you're in love.
I just wish you had worn that dress for me to admire
Maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad about doing it anyways.

damnation* is loving the sun while you
are the moon,
refusing to touch Sleep because you'd
rather kiss her cousin,
knowing your words will eventually become
a tourniquet,
and filling your heart up
to the brim with
formaldehyde..

but believe me when i say;
i'd be ****** for you.

11pm is for those who can't sleep,
bloods filled with rush;
because of the sweet texts they just can't wait to read.

1am is for the poets who just can't stop,
can't stop the thoughts entering --
entering their mind one by one.

And 2am is for the broken.
The ones who can't stop thinking,
Thinking of what might've been,
What could've been.