it's not that
i still love you,
it's just that
i don't yet know
how to be
around you without
reaching out
for your
hand

Everyone I've only been home for about 4 weeks and already I feel myself failing.
I am trying everyday, I try and I try. But I feel my will slowly fading
It's different  being back here where I have no support meetings and daily check ups
It's different, and I ******* hate this all of it
I want to give up but I know, I know I just can't
Not for anyone else, but for myself.

I miss me.
I miss Emma, and I'm scared that she'll never come back. That she'll never be the same

Today I ate a slice of pizza, some granola, and filled up on water. Even then I wanted to *****. I wanted to let it all go, the pain, the suffering, the fear.
I don't want to be so negative but it's a ******* disease, bulimia is one hell of a sickness. One that I might just rot away in

*I want to be held and loved. I want to be happy and free. I want my life back everyone

Dear boy on the bus
You had to sit beside me, today of all days
My hair a mess
Bundled up in a black winter jacket
Acne and tired eyes
It had to be today of all days, didn't it

Dear boy on the bus,
From my peripheral vision I saw a golden mop of hair, which I find to be attractive on the male species
I’d call you an angel, but  I don’t even know if you were attractive
I’d glance over at you from time to time, only because I was afraid you’d notice

Dear boy on the bus,
I don’t know whether or not to call you a boy or a man,
Because at this age, we’re younger than we look but older than we feel

Dear boy on the bus,
they say age is just a number, but it’s also just a word,
But I’d feel weird if you were younger than me all the same

Dear boy on the bus,
Do you realize how loud your music was playing? Apparently not, since it lulled you to sleep
Even if it was a few decibels lower, heavy metal isn't what comes to mind when I think of ‘lullabies’
I stole glances at you and your sleeping face, praying slightly that the bus would do a wide enough turn so that your head would sort of rest against my shoulder, even though I’m a lot shorter than you

Dear boy on the bus,
You could sit anywhere else after a few stops. I might have been a little hurt if you moved, but it’s normal.
So why didn't you?

Dear boy on the bus,
With bags on my lap, I felt closed in: I was too afraid to move, too afraid to touch you—I felt my arm brush against your sweater through my jacket and my stomach did somersaults
It’s not that I didn't want to touch you, but I didn't want sparks to be sent through my body—my mind was already going wild with the many scenarios playing in my head as we sat there.

Dear boy on the bus,
My heart was shivering as my stop got closer
I didn't want to leave before you did
I imagined you didn't want me to leave either

Dear boy on the bus,
I was thinking of pulling out my phone to text a friend about you, but I was afraid you’d notice.
I was thinking of pulling out my phone to write about you—would you think me a poet? Or a creep?

Dear boy on the bus,
I wish you said something

Dear boy on the bus,
I wish I said something

Dear boy on the bus,
When my stop came and we awkwardly got up, I wonder if you thought my sheepish smile meant something, or anything at all.

"Truly you love me?" she whispered beneath the soft sound of his kisses which started near the sharp edge of her hip bones working slowly up, tracing every inch of every slender curve until his mouth met the softness of her neck and the whiskers of his beard tickled her slightly and caused her to tremble and her toes to curl. She smiled and bit lightly on her bottom lip.

"What makes you so sure," he inquired thru a mischievous grin. He could feel the warmth of her skin touching his and in this moment he knew that he loved her and only her deeply but he did not want to say so just yet and played coyly with his lips on the nape of her neck and entangled his fingers in the golden blonde strands of her hair, pulling just enough so that she arched her back and ****** her ******* into the hardness of his chest.

"It's in the way that your mouth moves across me."

"Perhaps my mouth is only hungry?"

"Perhaps. But then how do you explain your hands?"

"They have a mind of their own."

"A wonderful mind it is."

She ached for his mouth to be on hers, to feel the course hairs of his beard on the softness of her cheeks, for the hard lines of his hands to cup her ******* and squeeze her ****, for him to be the only moment she would ever have. She wiggled out beneath his force and in doing so he lay supine with her on top. Her hair was hanging down like a curtain over his face so that all he could see was her icy blue eyes and beautiful red lips. His hands moved across the smooth tan skin of her back until she grabbed his arms and traced them with her hands up to his, ensnared their fingers, and pinned his arms above his head.

"You're my prisoner now."

"You are my warden?"

"I am."

"My crime?"

"So cruel, it is unmentionable."

"I'm innocent. I swear." He said unbelievingly.

"We are all innocent in our own wicked ways."

"You are not innocent."

"No, I am the devil and I've come for your soul," she laughed.

He lunged his face forward to meet her lips but she pulled away, smiling.

"You haven't served your time yet."

Her tongue was tracing the canines of her teeth and there was a growl to her voice that made her seem like a wild beast and this drove him insane on the inside. He feigned struggling to lift his arms up away from her pinning him down but liked that she was on top of him and did so only in play.

"Don't I get time served for being good?"

"Yes. But I don't want you to be good."

"But I am an angel."

"Your halo is held up by horns."

He tired of their banter and raised his arms and flipped her over on to her backside and lay on top of her once more. The sheets on the bed were now completely tangled around their bodies so that they had cocooned themselves and were pressed very tightly together. His mouth met her mouth and they shared a long kiss that awakened both the insides and the outsides of their bodies.

His eyes met hers and her lips smiled and her face creased beautifully.

"Truly, you are the only one I love."

Happy birthday,
by the way.
I just thought I’d write to you,
since I never really did

It’s been two years now
two complete rotations around the sun
since you died.
I probably think about you every week-
believe it or not,
you changed my whole outlook on life
But I’m sorry to say it didn’t happen until you left.
I think about you every time I leave the house in the morning
I think about how sudden it was
and how that happens every day to all kinds of people
even you.

I think about you every time I say goodbye to anyone
especially if the person I’m saluting is getting into a car
and when I say goodbye
I say it as heartfully as I can
and I hope that maybe they’ll realize that I’m saying
“I love you”
and “please, for the love of god, drive safely.

please.”

all in one word.
Because if I said it openly like that they’d all think I was totally mental.
I’m not mental.
I’m just a lover and a fighter
who lost something he didn’t even think he had the option of losing.

I think about you when I hug
anyone.
because you never know.
  and hugs are not ever worth half-assing.
                       ever.

  So maybe I lied.
and maybe I actually think about you multiple times a day every day of my life.
   not consciously i guess.
      but I can tell you for certain
that your absence is felt
          in one way or another
                      every
                             ­      day
                             of my life.

I wish I could have learned these lessons without losing you.
                        but you went all the same
                                         and here we all are.

             anyways happy birthday.
                          
                             Miss you.

Counting stars (edited October 18/13)


Looking at the night time sky
Staring at the stars
counting all that we can see
Serenaded by the cars
clouded sky and rainy nights
full moon and sometimes none
I cherish counting stars with you
You are my only one

Making wishes on the shooting ones
Knowing what we see is gone
In the twinkle of an instant
Their light may now be done
In the darkness of a moon filled night
Lying, counting stars with you
It doesn't matter how high we get
we may even just see two

I know we can not count them all
If we stay here 'till we die
The thing that is important
Is that we just give it a try
Each night we begin again
The stars come out to play
Counting stars each night with you
My first wish comes true each day

Imagine, if there's someone there
Counting stars, and we are one
That they look at and imagine
On the far side of the sun
thinking, what is going on
Way out there in space
counting stars, like I with you
brings a smile to my face

Lying here just holding hands
And counting stars we see
Just knowing that this point in time
belongs to you and me
counting some we do not see
A speck in outer space
Lying, counting stars with you
this is my favorite place

I know we can not count them all
If we stay here 'till we die
The thing that is important
Is that we just give it a try
Each night we begin again
The stars come out to play
Counting stars each night with you
My first wish comes true each day





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