You have now left me

As I sit here fighting away more tears
I wonder
Do you remember all the things I wrote about you?
Do you remember the poem called You that I wrote?

You probably don't

Even though you left me today it feels like it was forever ago
For you seem so far away from me

Did you think about the fact that you come over early every thursday so you can get to youth?
Wether I'm coming or not?

You probably didn't

Now every time you come over
I will retreat
I will retreat to my bedroom
To the bathroom
Or out the door
So I can find somewhere quite to cry

Because your smile gave me life
Your gaze gave me butterflies

You are utterly beautiful in my eyes
But you don't see yourself that way

So you break
And then you leave me
Because 'you can't handle a relationship'
I understand
But my heart still shattered when I read those words

Tears instantly swelled my eyes and started to pour
Just like rain on a lonely night

Now tonight as I go lay in my bed
I will stare out my window
At the wall
Or the roof

Remembering your smile
Remembering your laugh
Remembering how safe I felt next to you
Pressed into you
And just near you

I will lay there as tears streak my cheeks
As I remember the way my heart would beat just at the sight of you
As I remember the way my heart would break when I saw the smile falter from your face

For I didn't want you to feel broken like me
Because you deserve to be happy

You are beautiful to me
And you always will be

Now as I sit here my thoughts will not leave you

If anyone asks for me to be theirs I will probably say no
And I probably will for many years

But if I say yes I will not truly love them
For I will forever remember when you were my puppy
And I was your kitten

You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

:)

You see a lot of girls talking about their insecurities
But hardly any boys speak about theirs
It’s like we’re simply not allowed
Like it’s a rule that you can’t be open about your feelings
Well I am
I’m one of the few boys who are
I’m comfortable enough to talk about my uncomfort
And there’s a lot of it
Some boys can relate to girl problems
I relate to them all
I bleed every month
I’m uncomfortable with a lot of my body
I feel feelings
Everyone feels feelings
Girls are encouraged to talk about them
But what about us boys?
Can’t we be sensitive?
Because some boys are insecure
And we need to express it

i have so much to say to you,

but i'll never say it,

so instead,

i post it here.

i’d rather write about the freckles on your back than think about all of the ways in which you quite possibly don’t love me.

i feel sick at the very thought of you picking me apart the way you did; fingers grabbing and stroking in a catastrophic symphony of skin and vulnerability.

let’s read between each other’s lines; share my sentences and punctuate my paragraphs with your mouth; because i can breathe easier on the mornings where i wake up wrapped around you.

because my moods change like the ******* seasons and the spinning in my head doesn’t want to stop.
                                         you tell me that i should probably get a therapist because no one that thinks about all the ways in which they could **** themselves has an ounce of mental stability.
                                          i tell you that i have been to four.
                                          names faded into a blur with hazy snippets of conversation remaining.
20mg.
                    30mg.
you tell me that trust issues and scars aren’t endearing and i tell you that neither is counting up the potential number of pills needed to dissolve your body into the living room carpet.

let me sink inside your skin and make a home in your flesh;
i tell you about the nights where i lay awake in the bath turning the water red.
                       tragic, isn’t it.

you tell me that this isn’t how my head should work and i tell you that i already know. everything you could possibly tell me i already know.
i know that 400 calories a day isn’t normal, and my hands shouldn’t shake all the time.
                                             i know.
please let me stitch myself into you, even just for a while; until i no longer feel dizzy and my world stops spinning.
i don’t need you to tell me that it will be okay, because honestly i don’t think it will be and, that in itself, is okay.
                                                                ­                 let me stitch myself into you, because my own skin can’t take it anymore.

let me call you back when my voice stops wobbling and my vision straightens out, but honestly, i’m terrified that it never will. what if this is it. headaches and tears and shaking and blood.
                                             and the debilitating, gut-wrenching feeling of pure and euphoric emptiness.

                                              tragic, isn’t it.

"i love you" she says
"i'll never leave you"
"i love you and only you"
but it wasn't the truth was it?
you avoid me in the halls
you had to block me
we used to be happy
but now
our story is filled with broken "i love you"'s
and heartbroken "i'm sorry"'s
do you still love me like you say you do?
do you really want me to fight for you
you said "if you love me, you'd fight for me"
but my love i am fighting
but nothing will work
for we are two broken hearts, filled with lust, love, and hurt

i shouldn't love the way your hands trace mine so much,
i shouldn't love the way you lean yourself into me so much,
for love is a beautiful, great, big disaster.
i'll take the chance even if you grow old of me or i grow old of you
or we grow out of each other like pants or shoes do.
this,
my thumb rubbing our intertwined hands.
this,
your eyes that stare way too long for me to get red when you call me sweet words.
this,
your blush clustered cheeks.
this,
how we hold each other.
this,
how i promise you i will never grow old of you.
this
is a love catastrophe.
it's grand, it's big, it's beautiful.
i want to live for you.
i want to take you to art museums
and picnics
and cheesy movie dates.
i drowned myself in your utter perfection and drank forbidden wine as i thought of how we'd end up.
our love isn't a disaster,
it isn't a tragedy,
it's a celebration.
the way we love and feel is art and it smells like cake and feels like warm laundry.

you were everything right,
everything perfect.
i couldn't muster up greater words than,
'i love you'.
you are the sun after the rain,
the breezes in autumn that make me feel like i'm supposed to be here,
the white trees at the edge of spring.
no flower could compare to you.
your overflowing passion,
and compassion
made me feel alive.
jaw dropped and heart open,
i knew you are the one,
you were always the one.
i don't know how i've managed to live without you all this time.  
my last puzzle piece,
the person who tied everything together.