after his lips
brazed mine, i understood what
churches meant to saints;
death and rebirth and homecoming and
ease. the artistry of our
flesh meeting flesh,
gentle grassroot heartbeats finding
heaven in the moles on our shoulders, our
inner thighs. he hums a hymn of becoming and i
join the chorus: a
kingdom of quiet wednesdays and
leaving forget-me-nots on my pillowcase to bloom.
murmurous, he sweetens my melancholy; our
naked bodies left bare to the seasons,
over and over again, unafraid. i
part my gracious fingers and
quilt for him a makeshift
rosebush beneath blue eyes and
summery glances. our
testimony is this:
underneath july starlight,
victory is found in the
warmth of our
xanthic chapel; a
yearlong love story left
zen in our delicate rapture

i. the curly, green-haired
leo with the cry-baby tattoo
on her left calf; fish net stockings and
loud guitar playing and
menthol cigarettes. driving through
the park at 9 pm, ***** shots,
the white house with the a-frame roof,
hugs that made your heart feel as warm
as she did

crying as i left my room again to be
intertwined with a girl who did not love me, but i wanted to;
months pass, lonely car rides with
one-sided conversations and
seven years gone,
quiet disconnection
that made you feel as cold
as i did

ii. brown eyes, brown skin,
round glasses and chicago streetlights.
holding each other close on the subway
lakehouse parties in the beginning of spring and
pisces season and tarot readings and
soft kisses on the train.
holding hands at the aquarium,
sweet poetry and calm and
a sense of oneness that made you feel
important

hurt for the third time
a panic, a loss
i held their heart in my hands and
let it fall
harsh
unimportant
i still carry the guilt on my fingertips

iii. short hair. freckled cheeks, i
fell in love with the way the skin
crinkled around her eyes when she smiled.
an apartment, a home built
around our lips touching
wrapped in blankets on the couch,
dense smoke and her hand on my leg while she
drove. chinese food and
waking up against her chest and
laughing so hard
my ribs hurt

crashing. her anger withering away my
heartstrings; pain and
crying alone in the bathtub
moving away
drunk tears on the interstate
punching my thighs
in place of the way her
words made
me hurt

I’m happy
(I’m depressed)

I love myself
(I hate myself)

I can’t wait to live my life
(I can’t wait to die)

I am lucky to have my friends
(why do they even like me?)

I have a family who loves me
(and I continue to disappoint them)

I am an excellent student
(I can’t focus in school)

I want to travel the world
(will I even live to do that?)

I’m fine
(I’m not fine)

I’m perfectly okay
(please help me)

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

I miss you
And you aren’t even gone yet
From experience
I know how this will end

One day you will find someone new
Meet someone funnier; prettier
You’ll slowly slip away
All while denying anything is wrong

When you look into her eyes
You will see a future
When you look in my eyes
You see lust and desire

There is no future for us here
so why do I let myself fall in love anyway?

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10:03 P.M.
Notification: You have one unread message:
from Andrea

"i love you ♥"

10:03 P.M.
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People often ask me what love is  

And I seriously don't know what it means

All I can think about is you

Your eyes, those brown eyes

Those eyes which saw me naked  

You saw every scar on my body  

Yet the only thing you said was

“You are beautiful”  

Love, I am not beautiful

Scars, stretch marks, blood, wounds

Doesn't mean beautiful

I am not an art

Yet your lips kissed me

The way the sun kissed my skin every morning

Without a fail, without any doubt

You smiled.  

And the only words that came to my mind was

"****, this is trouble"

My love, your words hold me like a hostage

Trapped inside an empty box, finding a way out.  

A way I can never ever get a glimpse of.

I knew that this love

Our love would last a lifetime  

Or so I thought



We were torn apart by hatreds, insecurities, confusions

Maybe if it wasn't for distance  

We would be still together, we could have worked it out

But maybe, no matter what decisions we'll make

We will still come to an end

Confused about the future

Insecure about other people

Hating each other

You, giving up

And me, craving for more

Craving for something that can fill up the hole inside my chest



I wanted you to stay forever, here beside me

But every time I would ask about it

You always said

"You deserve so much more"

You were once my everything

My other half

My partner in crime  

You were someone so freaking important to me

You were the kind of mistake, I wouldn't mind repeating

I fell so hard for you

And guess what happened?

Love, I am broken



How many days, months, years

For me, to forget

That once upon a time

You were here

I was there

Hands holding tighter

Eyes locked to each other

Hearts that beat in a synchronizing manner  



How much would it cost?

For the pain to stop

For the memories to abandon

For the feelings to fade

My love, I did not expect any of this

I didn't know that love can be deadly

A love that can force someone to commit suicide  

That loving someone means tearing every part of yourself





Now, do you think I'm suicidal?

Love, do not be afraid

I'm not going to die

Being suicidal doesn’t mean killing yourself

Suicidal means I wouldn't mind dying

I kept on dying anyway

I kept on dying at the same place I thought was giving life to me  

Because the day, you decided to give up on me

I already gave up on myself.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.