the more times you open up to someone
the harder it is to do it again
moments like those fill up time and the vacant space between your heart and your rib cage, but still leave you empty

there are paintings i want to show you
and kisses id love to give you
but i know i never will

how will i explain the stories i keep at the bottom of my desk
how will you be able to like a girl as messed up as her handwriting
how do you take a risk when you know you could get hurt?

**you don't

how come the sound of the record player changes every time there's a new boy?

i built our silhouette by hand
the one with the boy and the girl against shadows of the city
but why couldn't i have built us something better?

so many spaces were left unfilled because i couldn't stand to see my hands bleed again

why does the sound of the record player change but my voice still won't stop shaking

you were never supposed to be the 'you' in my poems
but you are right now
that spot was always reserved for another boy
but both of you took a piece of me with you on the fifth of January
you both kissed me when i was too afraid to lean in
you both left me when i finally did
i always thought you were the color red
with the morals of summer
but you're really the rip in my tights
and the sound of crashing airplanes
i'm terrified of you
the way you always leave like it's nothing
i know you'd like me if i cried less
that makes me want to cry more
you're too happy and carefree to understand why i'm writing this
and i wouldn't want you any other way

why would you play a game with no instructions
why would you love a girl made of porcelain
why is it easy for me to take off my clothes
for a boy who never cared
but so hard to tear down my walls
for a boy who might
why is it so hard for me to say that i love the way you tap your feet
but so easy for me to say how scared I am that you might hurt me
why do i keep seeing shadows on the wall
shadows of a young girl running across the grass;
not because she's happy
but because she's being chased
why do benevolence and malevolence sound so different when i'm all alone
but sound the same when i'm being held in someones arms
john keats wrote something about joy and pain being equally blinding
why can i relate to those words
more than i can relate to other people

will someone please tell me