nobody will ever understand how good back rubs feel
not like a massage
just to have your back caressed
it’s better than anything
scalp massages are a close second
but i’m sitting in bed rn
wanting you to rub my back
but your not here, you’ve never been here
you might not ever be here
and you definitely won’t rub my back

i wish i had recordings of our conversations.
see i have this playlist. it’s spoken word over soft instrumental. it’s all these recordings of these guys who can capture their feelings so well and it has poems and songs and thoughts about everything, but somehow, they’re all about you. i wish i could listen to your voice the way i listen to them and i would in a heartbeat given the chance. to hear not only your voice but the just the way that you talk. your choice of words, make my feet turn to rocks, your enunciation, pronunciation, the thing you do with your mouth when you speak, the way you position your teeth the way that they would almost gleam. god i would **** to relive that memory. i gave all my attention to you. like a convenience store clerk being held at gun point by your boyfriend, i cleared my register and filled your bag. every second i spent with you was spent memorizing your every feature to the point where i could see you in my minds eye when i heard your voice over the phone. i could see your smile, when you close your eyes, when you raise your eyebrows, when you were clearly high, every face that you made i could envision each one. i’ve always adopted the mannerisms of those who i love. but i didn’t realize to what extent until yesterday. i saw all my family when we gathered to see my great aunt judy alive once more. i found home movie in my grandmothers phone. when i played it i could tell that i had been talking to you at the time it was recorded. only based off of the movement of my mouth. the way i talked. i was trying to replicate you. i bring you up a lot. you were a huge part of my life and you changed me entirely. every time you’re brought up i’m told to move on. and i have. but not completely. i’m not sure if i’m yet to move on or if you just made an impact so big i still connect everything to you. i’ve never felt anything like what i felt with you.

i want to put together meaningful words with deep complex themes and truth beneath the surface. something about the beauty of impermanence or my tendency to overcomplicate. it’s like i want to capture my feelings in a cool edgy way but they’re just kinda lame. they’re not all that deep. they’re just dumb and cliche. i’m sixteen and girls don’t love me. i don’t like school. my friends don’t like me. i don’t have lines that hit you hard or metaphors that linger in your head. i don’t have rhyme schemes that i find naturally, i have one fish two fish red fish blue fish. i don’t have a truck that i’m in love with. and i don’t have a girl that will let me love her. i don’t have a dad that i hate. or one that i adore. i’m just a self sabotaging hyper romantic man *****. i want to write about silent screams or a shadowing crowd, or a deafening silence, or quiet meaningless vows. i have girl that wanted me to grab her ****. i have scabs on half my knuckles. i have battered and misshapen fists. i have an ex that ****** my brother and then tried to **** my ****. i have an ability to drink cheap ***** without the risk of getting sick. i have notes in my phone full of meaningless rhymes. and and tendency to fall asleep at inconvenient times. i lost my rhythm if one there ever was. as for my rhymes i’m just grabbing for straws.