***** your car because i keep seeing it everywhere and all the different shades just seem to remind me that everything is done and ***** your good taste in music that would convince me to add things to a playlist full of memories i can't make anymore

Here's to those nights that feel too off to be apart of you, but too you to be somebody else's
Here's to the broken dreams and the tears and the "I'll get over him this time"'s
Here's to the silent reminiscing of a mind we cannot control
Here's to all those things they didn't tell you just so you would enjoy growing up
Here's to the times you sprayed on perfume just for him
And here's to the times you would come home and want to scrub every smell that reminded you of him off
Here's a toast to the good times and the bad, to the wasted nights full of wonder, and to the cabinets full of fortunes that never come true

whether it's 57 or 47 i don't know because i got sidetracked and i guess that's good because for the first time in a long time i was able to be sidetracked from the idea of you
this summer was a necessity for me, not a want because i needed to get away from here and from all of those memories of every time i did something wrong and ******* up and although it hurt being in the same place twice for a total of seven hours it wasnt as bad as i thought
youre just a memory now and accepting that is no longer like drinking a teaspoon full of bitter medicine making me want to throw it up just to keep you as alive as i could
i held on to you like you were some kind of lifeboat but you arent and never were and never will be and now you want to float your way back into my life but i learned how to swim in the salty water of the black sea summers ago and i was reminded once again that im too good for your drowning savior
this is my 57th and last poem to you, because i realized that resigning writing about you is resigning the memory of you and it's finally time for that
no more thinking about the carpet burns on my hands and the stream of tears that would pour waterfalls onto my cheeks to ruin my makeup
no more looking back at the story i wrote just so i wouldnt forget the experience and no more wishing it had happened differently
no more walking down the hallway with a shallow hole in my chest where your bullet ripped right through it and no more looking like the walking dead because of you ((i can still look like it for old reasons though))
and it makes me sad that i never really realized all of this until after June, until after an unforgettable experience with my loved ones but thats what did it for me
the melody of the mountains and the songs the summer sang in perfect harmony
and i realized in the end of july, when i was in a car without makeup, with work clothes, my hair blowing in the wind of the rolled down windows of a old car, it was when i looked at the window mirror then, that i was smiling

i was smiling

its been over two months since ive cried about you and i plan to keep it that way, and so i wanted to say i bid you adieu

it was nice while it lasted but kids grow up like grass when you give them soil and emotions recover from withering once you give them water

and i? well, i finally decided to drink the water.

I want to dance with a stranger
I want to feel the melody of the music in the sway of my hips, his pace to match mine, faces close, body heat erupted into something larger; something intimate
I want someone to come up to me and make me feel like someone I never thought I could, beyond beautiful -- a Cinderella moment to take my slipper and lose it so he can come back and find me
I want a stolen dance, one that is never mentioned again, one that will be remembered for the rest of my life as a memory too sweet to be forgotten, too magical to be thrown away
I want him to have confidence, to come up to me and talk to me so that his mouth starts to form words of passion that follow the sheet music to my heart, words that make me question everything, words that draw me in so that I can melt into him

You told me once that you're on this website but that you remain hidden underneath a username so mysterious even I wouldn't be able to figure it out and it's nights like these I wish I could because it's easier to talk trough a computer, through poetry, than it is to tell you it

Have you ever felt you've made a mistake long ago and has your throat ever clogged up at the thought of it? I miss sitting in your car listening to frank ocean and I miss missing you and sitting on you and knowing you inside and out, upside down and right side up

I miss seeing the sympathy in your eyes when I would talk to you and the way you would wear your hat just because I liked it and I miss winter hiking and photoing and I miss telling myself that you would never change and I miss that missed opportunity when I was in your sweatshirt and you weren't with her yet

As much as I hate the past sometimes, I ******* miss it, too.

Don't hold onto texts like that lost hope you once had and expect that time will defy all of it's laws just to go back for you and let you rethink all of your decisions, because it simply won't

Don't try cramming all your emotions in the three minutes before your eyes seem to stop seeing the world because you'll end up feeling disappointed and crying instead of dozing off, and you'll be left to hear the cars in the streets and the snores from the balconies and wonder why you're the one with a problem

Don't tell yourself anyone is worth any of you because you're a tarnished diamond and they aren't easily found. Let someone take their time to polish you back up, to give you another reason to shine

Enjoy the moments that happen around you when you're in the car with your parents who have grown old right before your eyes and feel like a kid again, shouting lyrics to the old classic rock songs you knew by heart as a child

Stop worrying about an end. Know that endings happen and that's just a life cycle, and there is nothing you can do to stop time

Don't regret every action you make because not everything was a mistake when you first did it so what makes it a mistake now?

And again it is just one of those nights, where the heart grieves for what the mind cannot fathom.