We break our own hearts more than others break them.

I can't believe I wasted a perfect song on you.

Jordan,

Trade in that helmet and playing field for a wig and a stage; you can still pretend to be someone you aren't, it will be fun, and you'll keep all your brain cells.  

That girl you just started dating is going to be your first love, and she's going to take your heart out of your chest and throw it into a ******* wood-chipper.  Well, that's what it will feel like.  Let her.  It will get better.

Save that money and buy that guitar you've always wanted to learn how to play.  Just don't be that ******* who learns to play Wonderwall for his first song.

You're going to be an ******* when you're 20.  It's a phase.  Make sure you apologize to everyone afterwards, because they're going to be some of your most valued friends down the line.

Talk to that Zach kid.  He's going to become one of your best friends.

I've already said too much; I don't want to spoil this for you.  Figure the rest out for yourself.  See you when you get here, kid.  

Best wishes,

Jordan

My happiness, fleeting, lacking longevity.
Crippling depression shrouded by levity.

when i see
You,
my heart
beats
like a brick
in a washing
machine.

tumbling, it steadily
chips
and breaks
down,
shrinking into an
unrecognizable cluster of
shards.

the spin cycle
slows
as you
depart,
and here i
sit in blissful
agony.

i wish this
heart
weren't so
****
weak, but i
take it's remnants
to the pond
and
skip them, watching
pieces
sink slowly,
joining
the other faulty
models i formerly
possessed.

"I was perfectly fine with wasting my time on you."

I prefer to take my leave before the magic does.

You are the moon,
and I am Terra,
watching you pirouette
around me.

Your presence, even from
such a distance, causes
rising tides, their waves
shaping my surface.

Thank you, stranger,
for all you do for me.

The only light in the car flashed and faded
every time you took a pull of your cigarette,
and it shone its light on the face of a kid who
was just trying too **** hard to grow up.

Go slow, sweetheart.

Why do you laugh when I say I love you?

I miss the days
where my biggest concern was how to
carry a sixty-four ounce grape slushie
from the gas station
while riding my Huffy.

Still, not much has changed.
I'm still awful at planning ahead,
and I still act on impulse,
and I still can't ride a bike
with no hands. It feels like the scrapes
on my elbow are open.

Summer was never really my season.

Ten seconds to fall in; still trying to climb out.

We have more control than we give ourselves credit for.

The best thing about
writing drunk: my words aren't slurred
by some clumsy mouth.

My love is singular. I cannot give it to one.

Keep my heart under lock and key; it's yours now.

I still remember
when you crawled inside
my chest and carved
your name inside my heart;
because every time
it beats, and I can
hear it in my ears,
it sounds like you.

One of these days, I will find another adventurous gypsy spirit to feel all of the pain, joy, sadness, struggle,  and triumph along with me as we wander; vagabonds and vagrants living like nomads. We will never live a materialistically glamorous lifestyle. But in the end, our experinces and memories will be the only religion we need. It will vitalize us spiritually and emotionally in a way that no other individual can comprehend. It will be euphoric, and it will be ours, and ours alone.

Spilled drinks turn the floor into fly paper; you're trapped.

Sometimes, love isn't a good thing; it's actually the worst thing.

Sometimes you find yourself in a cavernous hole, inescapable by yourself, and those close to you throw down ropes of braided love. What they don't realize is that their love looks like a noose, and dragging your dead weight to the top won't help; it will just **** you quicker.

Tina, you are the one who stands at the top, tosses down a ladder, and tells me to pick myself up off the floor and climb my way out. You know I have to do it myself, so you wait patiently and keep me company. When I finally do find the strength to climb, I know you'll be there.

I didn't know how to tell you I loved you until now.

I never remember being warned
About love just like a thunderstorm.
Abruptly, it strikes with excitement and fear,
But leaves as quickly as it came near.
Still you hear in your ears the thunder so loud,
So you search for its remnants in puddles and clouds.

I took the girl I had known for never to the formal affair,
And she told me she was from Laos,
And hadn't had sushi in over a year,
And said her father was a diplomat,
And she spoke great English,
And said she lived in Canada when she was a child,

All I could say was,

"I hope I'm as interesting as you someday."

She smiled, laughed, and said,

"Your time is up."

As she was leaving all I could think was,

"That escort sure had an elaborate backstory."