It was summer and you weren't smoking anymore. You still bit your nails when in stress but at least that doesn't **** you.
My mom said she didn't like you because you smoked and you played in a band, she said you'd break my heart.
I've always been a goodie-two-shoes and I told you I didn't want to disappoint her, and then you asked me if I wasn't disappointing myself.
I told you I couldn't see you because a lighter was always in your pocket and your sweaters always smelled like smoke and your palms were callused and your voicewas awfully musical.
You said you'd give up on anything for me but I told you that if I let you, then I'd be really disappointed in myself, before I left.
I've never cried as much as that night, and I didn't see you for months and then I realized my mother was right, you did break my heart, but only because I made you drop it.
Now its too late for anything and I guess I'll never know how your mouth tastes without the tobacco lingering.

You got me all caught up in words and stares.
The first time I saw you I knew you were differenet, it wasn't the dyed hair though, it was your smile and how you were the first person to see me as a human being- not some experiment labeled fragile.
I remember your favorite songs.
I remember how your laugh sounded.
I remember how you scrunch your nose when your voice cracked.
I remember watching you move, and walking side by side next to me; you were the first to ever asked me where I wanted to go.
And then I knew you and I knew I had been right when I thought you were different, because you are, and I know I'll never find someone who makes me feel like you because of that.

My heart beat so hard the first time I held your hand
I'm sure you felt me shaking
and I drunk texted you once
and I still meant it all the next day
and I embarrassed myself in front of you
but my face didn't turn red

and I named a poem after you
and somebody called it beautiful

Moments like this I don't even care if you love me back. I have so much love spreading through my blood system demanding to come out. I have so much love inside me and if I don't give it away, it bursts my veins open and  gets my chest tight.
Sometimes at four am I think and think and I just want to love, and love so  desperately it hurts more than not loving at all.
I just want to kiss you all the time but I'd conform with loving you though, because I need to love and you're get me all dizzy and high and giddy with your smile. And if you let me just love you right, then I wouldn't be crying at 8:35 in the night with a bunch of emotions bubbling and longing to give and give and give until I had no more to give.

-Your palms
-Your lips
-Your eyes
-Your smile
-Your laugh
-Your voice
-Your fingers
-Your nose
-Your ******* everything

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bold.*

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I'm craving your initials in trees and writing your name on notebooks.
My heart thumps and thumps and thumps and sometimes I think it's only because of you- you're so out of my league and I'm so ******* sad all the time because my heart is beating for you but I bet I don't even cross your mind.
I hate being the one who loves more, or the one who loves at all. I'm tired of giving my everything away to people who don't even care- but you, God, I can't keep myself from giving it all to you. I can help but hope one day you'll want me and it's killing me, but I'm not walking away; I rather die close to you than far.