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  5d C J MILLER
peyton
Dear [boy I wish I could send this to],

There are a hundred things I could say, and I’ve started them all in my head a thousand times.
Sometimes I think I’ll actually say them out loud.
And sometimes I just hope you’ll read between the lines of everything I don’t say.

But here’s the thing:
you make it impossible not to feel something.
Something slow, something wild, something like watching the stars blink to life when you didn’t even realize the sky was dark.
It’s quiet and loud all at once, like you.

I notice things.
Like how you talk when you’re passionate about something.
How your voice softens when you’re being kind.
How you never put me in the spotlight, but still manage to make me feel like I’m seen.
You don’t even know how rare that is.

I don’t want to scare you.
I’m not asking for anything big or dramatic.
I just want a moment.
A moment where I can be honest, where I can say:
I really love you.
More than I meant to. More than I can make jokes about.
Enough that I write about you, dream about you,
and hope maybe—someday—you’ll feel even a fraction of this about me.

But for now, I’ll keep this letter here.
Unsent. Unspoken.
Just… felt.

Love,
[a broken girl]
im such a hopeless romantic guys😭
The music starts, a languid, cruel design,
Your hand extends, a forced and hollow sign.
My fingers brush, a touch to endure,
Each measured step, a silent, bitter war.

Your eyes, a void where nothing gentle dwells,
Reflect the lies that this pretense compels.
A practiced smile, a whisper at the ear,
Ignites a cold and deeply buried fear.

The closeness burns, a searing, unseen flame,
Each beat a pulse that whispers out your name.
The breath, a phantom, chilling haze,
Trapped in this dance through shadowed, tangled days.

The body moves, a puppet on a string,
Resentment coils, a venomous, sharp sting.
This waltz of pain, a burden to bear,
A grim tableau, suspended in the air.

And when the song finally fades to light,
We'll break apart, into the lonely night.
The touch forgotten, the charade laid bare,
Leaving behind the ghosts of what we were.
The hum of spheres, a cosmic lullaby,
Where stardust drifts, and worries fade away,
A silent pact with the eternal sky.
No earthly weight, no tear, no weary sigh,
Just endless light, where souls can truly play,
The hum of spheres, a cosmic lullaby.
Through nebulae, our hopeful vessels fly,
New worlds revealed with every stellar ray,
A silent pact with the eternal sky.
We chart the paths where ancient wonders lie,
And greet the dawn of a celestial day,
The hum of spheres, a cosmic lullaby.
Though memories of earth may slowly die,
We build our home where galaxies hold sway,
A silent pact with the eternal sky.
So let the distant galaxies draw nigh,
We live among the stars and choose to stay,
The hum of spheres, a cosmic lullaby,
A silent pact with the eternal sky.
i've been so sad lately that i had a dream
about someone who truly loved me for me
he was smiling down at me as we danced around slowly
and just for a moment, i didn't feel so lonely
but when i woke up, i tried to remember his name
or the feel of his hands soothing away my pain
but i couldn't even recall his face, despite my endeavors
which is a shame, cause if i could, i would've stayed there forever
the frost stretches its cold hands
across the wind from foreign lands
watch your breath dissolve like smoke
in stars and moonshine and soft fading hope

the night sky is dripping, its eyes are awake
from the red sleeping fox to the quick deadly snake
the leaves are all weeping as they fall one by one
we'll pick up our messes and leave when we're done

the canary is watching, its gaze like a coal
burning straight through you, making you feel whole
there is a promise in the way it spreads its downy wings
the wind whispers around it as together they sing

the clouds are your sisters and brothers and friends
so lay your head down, angel, let's try this again
the lilacs are drowsy with the hope of tomorrow
don't cry, let the rain wash away your sorrow

in the dawn of tonight and the wake of the sun
promise me one thing when all this is done
tell me you'll come when it is my time
on the drop of a penny or the spin of a dime

leave nothing to chance, love, when all things are over
take my hand and i'll wish you a peaceful cross over
i will stand at your graveside and sing you a song
and whisper apologies all the day long.
written half for my little brother John, who died just moments before being born, and half for me, who misses him maybe more than anyone in the world.
I hung myself today. Hanged? Whatever, point is I hanged myself today and I'm still hanging.

I feel fine. Just bored. I keep hoping that someone will come home and cut me down but then I keep remembering that if i knew someone like that I wouldn't be up here. Bit ironic, right? Or is that not ironic? I read somewhere that, like, anything funny is, in some way, ironic. But I don't know if it's funny or not. I don't think my brain owns "funny," you know?

I feel taller. I like that.

I've never been away from my shadow for this long. It had always clung to my feet, parting momentarily for a quick dive into the swimming pool. But never for five hours. I like it. There's three feet of space between my two and the floor.

I wanted something this morning. I may be stuck. But at least I'm three feet closer to it.
I wanted the book to engage a wide variety of tones and feelings – from seriousness to silliness and from elation to melancholy. This particular poem is from the perspective of a man who has just hanged himself. I thought it was interesting to write a poem from the perspective of someone who has just hanged himself and is pretty nonchalant about it. That someone is /not me/, and that’s half the fun of writing – being able to put yourself in foreign situations and see things from others’ perspectives (and to empathize with them). The poem is definitely dark and a little unsettling but the page before this was a poem about flies buzzing around dog poo. The world is full of dark and light and I just wanted the book to reflect that :)
I want to kiss you all day.
I want to start at dawn.
I want our mouths to dry out by breakfast.
I want our jaws to start cramping by noon.
I want us to question our decision to kiss all day by hour five.
I want to have *** really quickly then seriously stop all this kissing ******* because you need your personal space, apparently.
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