I was never
A poet
Until the night you
Taught me the pain
A word
Can bring and now
These words are my only
Defense
And my sharpest
Knives.
My most deadly
Inflictions
Upon my own
Skin
And tonight I bleed out
For you
These words onto
a page
That you will never see

Even when I try to distance myself from you,
I can't help but try to catch your eye in the hall.
Every flower in the grass makes my fingers ache
to braid them into your hair.
I tear up the flowers I pick before I can do something stupid,
like give them to you.
When I look out my window I see you and I,
running through the woods and over the fields,
laughing with the joy of being alive together.
And in the dead of night I still hear the echo of your voice,
saying "I love you", even when all is silent.

If I could write I'd write you a novel
Eight hundred pages of "why I love you"s
If I could paint I'd paint you a thousand portraits
To show you how beautiful you are from every angle
If I could rhyme I'd be a famous poet
Because you are my muse, the best I could ask for
If I could fly I'd show you the world
There must be a view that would make you fall in love with me, like I with you
If I was strong I'd always protect you
But I'm the one that's broken
And if I could sing, this would be a love song,
And you might hum along.
And you just might love me.

I take a breath
I miss the smell your perfume left in my clothes
I open my eyes
yours looked so sad yesterday. I wish I could ask you why
I put on a shirt
I miss the way you used to rub the hem of my sleeve with your fingers
I brush my hair
I love your new color
I take a step
do you still remember our long walks in the woods?
I go on
*and so does life

I anchored myself to a stone
The safest place in my mind
Surrounded by a sea of madness
An ocean of tears

I sit my my stone, my safe place
With my heart in my head
Far above the waves
Away from these memories
The water is at peace

I'm okay. I'll be alright.
It starts with a thought
Of the shape of your smile
The next thing I see
Is the rising tide

Tears I've kept at bay
For so long now must
Be free and escape but
There are too many
Now I am drowning
In the rising tide

You ended something we never were, that you never gave us the chance to become,
And now it's 4 am and I'm writing poems for you over my third glass of wine,
And I am still in love with you.

Ladies and gentlemen, gaze now upon this, our final attraction: one fool, lost and brokenhearted. Watch as she tries to find anchorage in clumsy poems and petty love songs.
It may appear as though she is no different from the rest of us, but don't let her dangerously cheerful facade delude you. It is but a crumbling wall made of watering smiles and false enthusiasm, poised to topple at a moment's notice. Come, she is quite tame. She grasps at broken pencils and tattered journals, finding solace in their steadfast companionship. It may seem to be self therapy which she is after, but peer closer. Deep down, the only compulsion for each sadly plucked melody and smeared sketch is a sense of self loathing so old and innate it has become her only companion. It feeds a sick need for personal abuse which creates scars running far deeper than any physical violence could ever achieve.

I want to be in love with a tattooed boy, so tall,
Or a fierce, strong girl, sugar sweet.
I want someone to hold me at night and whisper sweet somethings,
So much more than nothings.
I want them to write me notes more beautiful than any poem could be.
I want to be cherished by someone I can call "darling",
But most of all, I don't want to be in love with you.
I wish it weren't true, but somehow I've fallen in love
With a stubborn girl who says she loves me,
Who flirts and teases and cuddles and squeezes,
But wants to be "just friends".

I am selfish.
It seems to me like each day you drift
a little farther from my arms,
but while I lie here alone, missing you,
I must admit to myself that it is really I
who has left. My poor heart, which longs
for your kiss each time you smile,
is pushing you away. I am losing a friend
because I am unable to silence my own desires
whenever you hold my hand. If I was truly
your friend I would be able to stay with you
through every silent storm that passes through us.
I should be able to stand strong by your side,
even when she is there, too.
Obviously, I have failed you as a friend,
and if I can't overcome my own pain for you, how
could I ever be your only one?