when the flowers began to bloom, i watched as you grew the same ones
inside of my belly. and then they began to wilt--i waited as you forgot
to water them. don't you remember? "you make me the happiest
i have ever been." these are my notes from nights unslept, where i tossed,
turned, and ached for you. scribbles in the margin that
reminded me why not even my worst enemy deserved to have a knife
twisted in the very ***** that she cherished. i trusted you and you became my rinse and repeat. good thing i finally spit you out.
i'll take this to the grave with me: my diary perception of you,
of your gentle hands and gentle heart, of your kind eyes and
the smile that released butterflies into my chest. of your sticky-note reminders:
"i love you." say it again. "i love you." louder, for the ones in the back.
"i love you but it's different now." you've become another name on my list,
unwillingly written and dated. spring of 2016, here lies the one who pieced it back together only to break it all again.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
i fell for you like leaves of an oak tree in a southern autumn--
a little at first. slowly. one at a time. and then suddenly,
all at once. i tripped on my own shoelaces, forgetting
that the bunny hops around the bend and jumps through
the loop because the sound of your voice became the soundtrack
to my thanksgiving. bites of turkey, the smell of pie,
and the tiniest piece of you warm up my belly.
the leaves are changing colors the same way i change my mind--
green, then orange, yellow, brown, and back to green. you were my green,
but i couldn't just stay at yellow. "i'm your rock." say it again.
sturdy, stable, grounded. when i'm going at a mile a minute,
i wait for the rock to fall and trip me, like an untied shoelace.
i am a balloon floating in an october sky and you are the pole i am tied to,
so don't let go. i wouldn't know which way to fly, but **** i'll go far.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
we've become a collection of bucket lists.
hypothetical "let's do this", "let's be here",
and "i'll go wherever you go."
but instead of marking minutes,
i'm marking miles. 3 states, 2 time zones,
and sometimes, an ocean apart.
but oh, my dearest, don't you know?
even when i'm here and you're there,
the sun still shines. the moon gets me home,
and every step i take is a step closer to you.
to my darling johnny, when your heart is weary,
when the days are brown and your eyes are tired,
rest easy. a parade is waiting for you. there is no
sadder, scarier, or more heartbreaking feeling than
loneliness. but dear john, you are never alone.
when days and days have passed and silence becomes
our preferred form of communication, your letters will come.
the bucket lists will turn into sticky-note reminders that someone
has you planted in her heart and allowed flowers to grow.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
you won’t realize you’re falling in love with him, but you will. it’ll come slowly at first, and then all at once and you’ll be stumbling straight into his arms trying to regain your balance. i don’t know if you ever will regain that balance though because he’ll keep you steady. he’ll hold you close and he’ll make sure that you don’t hurt yourself. but just because he’s watching out for your every step doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t watch out for his. don’t hold onto him too tightly–use gentle hands. he’s a lot more sensitive than he’ll admit, and he’s got this uncanny awareness for his surroundings. tell him that you love him, often. remind him that he’s special to you, because he will get lost in his head and he will try to shut you out. his heart is a fragile, timid ***** but it’s huge. it’s larger than anyone else’s you’ll ever see. so don’t be afraid of how big his heart is–but never forget that it’s easily cracked. carry bandages with you at all times, because you will injure it. and when you do, apologize sincerely and use careful fingers to heal the wounds. you’ll be grateful of its size because you will never meet anyone who will look at you with as much love as he will. have patience with him–words have never been his forte so he may probably never on his own tell you what’s on his mind. ask him questions, but do so with kindness. he’ll be afraid to let you in, but as i said, have patience. once you get past the wall he’s hiding behind, the effort will be worth it. always, always, always remember to hold his hand. it’ll remind him not to let go and that you’re there to stay. love him with everything you’ve got. love him fearlessly. love him in all the ways that he never let me.
and if he ever runs away from you, forgive him.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
i have spent days hiding in shadows
closets, behind stacks of boxes, where
light only comes in when someone remembers
something that they've forgotten--
i crave that 25 percent of sunshine, of
being told "you're alright" or if i'm lucky,
"you're not bad to be around" because then
i know that sitting in the dark was worth it.
i keep a mantra in my head--
broken toys get fixed. broken toys get found.
broken toys get loved just as much as if they weren't broken.
i repeat it over and over and over, waiting for that crack of light.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
first, choose a victim.
whether you spot her across the rowdy bar,
swiping right at 2am with a heart full of poison,
or knock your knuckles together reaching for the same coffee,
choose her wisely.
second, ****** her.
tell her that her eyes are the ocean you've always wanted to drown in,
that holding her was the greatest thing your arms could ever do,
and that she's your light at the end of the tunnel.
****** her until she can't help but gravitate towards you.
third, forget the plan.
gone are the days of prowling on street corners and alleys,
replace them with echoes of her laughter and the softness of her skin,
allow your victim to be the blood in your veins--
as soon as she becomes a part of you, remember it again.
fourth, execute the ******
when her guard is down and her chest rises with slow breaths of trust,
rip the bandaid off. watch the blood gush. mute the sounds of her cries,
feel your knife pierce through her heart and twist it before yanking it out--
leave her there and run.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
i. right before you fall asleep, there's a twitch in your shoulder like you're actually falling--your face turns up into a goofy grin that lets me know you're gone, and the lucky ones who get to see you are those in your dreams.
(i'll see you in mine.)
ii. radiohead. pink floyd. chromeo. a drum set that echoes through an empty house but the neighbors haven't moved in yet so you have your one man band until the rooms fill up with furniture and the only echo left is the soft plucking of your guitar at midnight.
(there are certain types of songs i can't listen to without thinking about you.)
iii. how could you be so heartless? we'd start our day at noon and wouldn't end it until three in the morning and kanye would be our soundtrack as we trekked across the city we love--
(and fell in love).
iv. your smile. your lips. each curve in your back. the sound of your laugh. your eyes. your walk (your posture, your stance, your aura). the flip of your hair. the way your hand searches for mine--
(and maybe one day we'll find our way back to each other like the way my hand always finds yours).
v. my inner monologue every time i see you: what a wonderful person, and how lucky am i to have met you. thank you for helping sunflowers grow inside of me.
(i'm sorry i can't be your person but when you find her one day, i hope you'll plant a whole garden for her.)
vi. we were made up of bad jokes, song lyrics, good beer, fireworks, movie nights, outdoor concerts, tacos, spreadsheets, ******* "you've made me the happiest i've ever been", "we're really good together", sing-alongs, belly ripping laughter and hearts full of love in the heat of a texas summer. we're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl.
vii. i swiped right on the one that got away.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
learn to love her so that when she smiles at you, it feels like your whole world is bursting with freshly bloomed flowers,
learn to love her so that when you hold her, you remember that there are things in this life that should never be broken,
learn to love her so that the sound of her voice is the only background noise you want to fall asleep to,
learn to love her so that she becomes the reason you wake up, the reason you check your phone every thirty seconds, the reason your mom asks you why you're grinning so much,
learn to love her so that those walls you meticulously built up for yourself come crumbling down the minute she bats her eyelashes at you--
learn to love her in all the ways you never loved me.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
“i’m ticklish. but don’t take that to heart.”
“okay.”
“i mean it, don’t remember it.”
“already forgotten.”
“glad we’re on the same page.”
“we’ve been on that page since we first met.”
-
i want to get so drunk that i can’t remember my own first name and my face starts to feel so numb that i forget where i am, what i’m doing, where i’m going, and who you are. but i’m too scared to lose control.
-
my best friend keeps a list of all of my bad decisions. i haven’t made a good one yet. she showed it to me today and i felt an overwhelming sadness for all of my could-have-beens.
-
i hate happy people because i’m so unbearably unhappy that seeing someone else happy makes me feel like there’s a forest fire spreading through my insides.
-
i think i’m lonely because i’m alone most of the time, but even when someone is holding my hand, i can’t seem to hold onto it in return.
-
i spend my days kissing frogs and dreaming of princes but i am a myriad of last first dates.
-
“i’ve been missing you a little lately."
-
you’ve become a void i’m trying to fill.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 1:39 AM UTC
don't text me.
when it's 4 in the morning and you're tossing and turning but you can't sleep because your heart aches for the place next to you to be filled with a warm body,
don't text me.
when you're downing shot after shot and the girl who's *** your free hand is grabbing sends you home with nothing more than a kiss and night of headache inducing regrets,
don't text me.
when you're scrolling through your photos and the light from your iphone blinds you from the picture of me wrapped up in your jacket with the sleeves too long and the shoulders too large that causes your chest to pound,
don't text me.
when your hand is holding hers and the realization hits you that it feels like lead instead of the softness you were accustomed to because that hand is not the same one that hugged you when you couldn't hold the world's weight anymore,
don't text me.
i won't answer.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC