Bookshelves are like apartment complexes,
with woody browns and dusty greys that they
just won’t let you paint over.

Rick Riordan and J. K. Rowling live with
their best friend, Cassandra Clare,
in the penthouse,
because we all had great childhood loves
filled with library-book paper cuts
and worn and scotch-taped pages.

Tolkien is merely an elevator ride below
and Austen is only a cheap oak door away,
because they are as dramatic as pre-teen girls were about Justin Bieber,  
and traveling to Mordor and
loving Mr. Darcy
is basically the same anyway.

But Frost and Dickinson live across the hall from
Hughes and Homer,
because everyone stops for death and
roads less traveled by,
and even though no one ever saw Emily,
they all thought they were very popular.

The bottom floor is filled with sundry residents
that no one sees as they come and go.
They just hear the dogs barking and doors slamming,
(Old Man Shakespeare wants them to leave him alone.)
but every teen fiction novel has a Romeo and Juliet story
and a broken boy and a dog.

And so if bookshelves are like apartment complexes?
Where will I live, and
could I even be
a resident?

There’s ink on my hands
And fire in my soul
I’m just a tired insomniac
Looking for someone to call home

Don't lie to me
You know when I'm there and you know when I'm not
But maybe I'm only relevant when you're lonely and I'm lost

And I won't lie to you
Because when you stood up there and sang with that girl
It all but broke my heart
Because one week ago I was in your room and you were in my arms

But honestly
I feel better about this than I ever have before
Because my heart didn't stop and my veins didn't clench when you walked through the door

I've been denying it but
It's not like it was a great night or even a great hookup

And I don't need or lie to myself
Pretending that you're worth it
In your Hawaiian shirt
On ******* December first

You're the kind of guy that people write teen fiction novels about
But not for me, babe, don't hear me out
I'm going to just walk far, far away
Maybe you really didn't see me there anyway

you taste like ashes and Colectivo coffee and everything that i hate
it’s a bad idea with an accelerated heart rate
and you feel like a one am decision no longer up for debate

but your sheets are warm and you smell like soap and cheap cologne
and two seconds later my lips are bruised and my shirt is torn
by the sound of muffled footsteps and a hidden groan

and i know you made it clear that i could stay
tangled in your feet and in your reckless ways
but after the actors finish the play
i guess they have to leave anyway

when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

I don't want another person
I don't need anyone else
And I don't want your explanations
I don't need your help

You say there are more people in the world
But you know I'm kind of picky
Even if the only one I want
Doesn't really want anything from me

So through the shortness of breath
And the aching in my chest
I tell you I don't need you
But I don't say it's a test

You could have my whole world if you asked
I could give you 150 reasons
Why you're not just a person
And I don't want the rest.