It doesn’t matter how many times you fall
Or how many times you get let down
It doesn’t matter if it’s done gently, swiftly, all at once
The force of gravity and the role it plays in the situation is irrelevant
And it doesn’t matter how hard you hit when it finally drags you down

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall
And it doesn’t matter how many times you get let down
It will hurt every single time
Maybe not the same, maybe even worse
It can range from scraped knee to broken wrist to bleeding mouth
It can be mild, it can be severe
It can last for a moment, a month, a year
But it will always hurt when it happens

It isn’t about preparing for the crash
You could be parachute-ready, eyes open, waiting
You could be practicing your jump, grace, descent
You could prevent yourself from building up too high and planning
But the impact of the landing will still be there

It’s going to hurt
The first time, the fifth, the tenth
Nobody tells you that it will, but it will
You will say to yourself,
“I’m never going to let this happen again”
“I’m going to be more careful next time”
“I’m setting my expectations low from now on”
You can tell yourself that you’re not hoping for anything, that you never were
That it is your fault for not bracing for the disappointment
You could say that you’re simply floating out the ride
But when it comes to a halt,
You will still **** back

It doesn’t matter the circumstance
Or how many people have dropped you before
Whether or not you were holding on tightly enough isn’t a factor
It’s still going to hurt when you hit your head,
Your hands will still crack from the friction
And it’s not going to be pretty

You’re going to feel it in all of your being
You will pull the splinters out of your eager heart one by one,
Leaving behind holes as you do
You will push the bones back into their sockets like routine
And you will bandage the wounds of led on

Maybe hurts
Almost hurts
Heartbreak hurts
Memory hurts
It’s going to ******* hurt

But you’re going to be okay
You will fill the gaps with cement stirred confidence
You will pile back the bricks high with pride
You will learn to hold your heavy head up even when it feels like too much to carry
You will paint a smile on in permanent ink
You will barely make it through some days, but you will make it
You’re going to be all right.

I know you won't read this
Your eyes will meet my name and take on the role of ignoring
They will do their best to avoid its presence
And eventually it will be a skill done almost subconsciously,
Forgetting me

I know you won't respond
If I ask you what happened
If I were to wonder aloud what changed enough to make you do the same
I'm not quite sure you even know the answer
And I'm quite sure I'll never pose the question

I wonder how it is that no one ever told you not to love a writer
Or worse than that, pretend to
These word-wringing hands belong to a body with a heart made of glue
Attachment forms if you get too close,
I am telling you that you did

It's clear that no one ever taught you caution
To be careful with the girl who cares much more than she should,
Who will love you more than you ever asked for
You crossed a line written in red and the footprints are still there

I know you won't remember
The way your lips met my forehead when you said goodnight or how the same ones told me I was beautiful
Your hands formed craters in my back and now I don't know how to fill all of the empty
I am used to an excess of space,
Of vacant but this
Is just too much

I know you won't understand why it is that
People like me always let strangers inside
We open the door without looking through the peephole
And take in whatever the wind blows with open arms
It is a mistake I am not sorry for repeating
You were just one of many

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
You will probably see my name and move on the way I probably should have already
You will laugh at my vulnerability like being bare isn't something that takes strength
You will remember my thighs, the unsteadiness of my laugh, the freckle I pointed out above my cheek, my warmth
You will hear my voice in the title
You will see the word poetry and immediately say no thank you
And I will continue keeping the idea of you alive in a language you don't care to comprehend

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
But if you do,
Know more than anything else,
I didn't write this for you
I wrote it for myself.

poems are raw fragments of thoughts or emotion, a chance to indulge in something as frivolous as acknowledging the truth. A poem is singular, to you and only you, because only you matter, to you

I colored you into an image so bright that I could see you even with eyes closed. I painted you loud enough for the noise to keep me up at night. I made you into something you were not; a masterpiece.

It is undeniably human in how we constantly seek explanations for our problems
It's funny, the way we blame the alignment of the planets for our mishaps and frustrations, calling mercury into fault for our own mistakes
I have spent far too long searching for answers I will most likely never find to blame it on astrology

Your hellos have morphed into avoidance and I miss the way you once looked at me like I was a single star in the middle of a loud Los Angeles sky
I don't know exactly when you changed your mind or how and why but I do know that I haven't put the bottle back to my lips because the cool of it feels too much like yours
Early on I prepared myself for the let down but that doesn't mean I didn't taste disappointment

This could easily be an apology but I'm not sure what I have to be sorry for and the word is overused anyway
This could easily be an I am still angry but I'm really not, just aching and tired of the aftermath that follows wringing myself dry
I poured out all of my contents and you don't even have the decency to act like you could have loved me
I used to light up like an Idaho sunrise when I saw you but now when I do I have to dig laughter out of the depths of my stomach to pretend I’m okay
I am fading like the twitching light bulb in my room I am too weak to change

You made the mistake of telling a collapsing ceiling its perfection; you said there was nothing wrong with the structure
I watched you leave and then I caved in completely
Gravity had been calling to pull down for some time so I guess it makes sense that it finally did
My only regret is how quiet your smile gets when you notice me now and my inability to understand why

I don't know what I did to create the dull in your eyes or what I did to make you stop caring
I don’t know how we managed to go from pretend lovers to near strangers
I am so sorry for something I can't comprehend, for something I didn't even do, for that which I am uncertain
I am sorry that you changed and that I can't blame it on the retrograde of mercury
Los Angeles has enough stars without me,
I hope you find yours again one day.

I joke about watching the laundry
in the machine when
what I really mean is I could
watch you for the same amount
of time without losing interest

In my mind I can see the rain pouring everything it has into the ground,
I can see the sun shining with all its might onto the earth
and I can see the air breathing all its breath to help a single rose blossom and grow,
and I know that due to all these things,
bouquets of flowers are given to lovers to show their affection for one another
and each petal, no matter the color, represents all the feelings we may or may not feel
yet cannot express,
so we give each other flowers to show emotions that mean more than we can say,
just like all the things given to a seed growing in the ground every day
to prove that anything, no matter size, shape or color,
can become beautiful enough to express the one emotion that can never be explained by mere words,
yet easily expressed with a single rose.

is it silly to write you a poem
when we've never kissed,
when we've never spoken,
when we've never met?
is it silly to tell you that i love you
when i don't even know
if i'll ever know you?
is it silly to want you,
to crave you, to say that i miss you?
is it silly that i can't write these verses
without wanting to cry, wanting to mourn
the loss of someone i never had?
is it silly to think that one day
i'll show you these words
and you'll smile when you
think at how things turned out?
is it silly to believe that i won't be alone?