As I stood there in the ocean
it was as if the current were moving me,
and if I held real still
and closed my eyes,
it was if I could feel the earth moving beneath my feet.
Eyes shut tight,
I could understand why people did such things
as jumping from an airplane, or leaping through fire, or battling tigers
or fall in love.
I could understand why people smiled and laugh and danced
and lived.
The waves crashed up against me
strong enough to take me away,
and I realized there will always be forces that are stronger than you and I.
But as you came to stand beside me
and you, too closed your eyes,
I knew I could jump from an airplane, leap through fire, battle tigers, fall in love, smile, laugh, dance,
live.
There will always be forces greater than you and I,
but you held my hand and kept me upright as the waves bashed against us,
and that's all that matters.

He touched her like
he had never felt anything like her before.
From collarbones to hipbones,
to the birthmark on her hip to the curve of her neck
He kissed her like he’d never been kissed.

She trembled like it was her first time
and maybe it was, she couldn’t remember.
All she knew was the tips of his hair and the bottom of his feet and everything in between.
Her heart was beating out of her chest and into his,
and if he could he would capture it and keep it forever.
She kissed him like she had never been kissed.

But time was short and they had been here before,
Knowing you can try and try again but not get it right.
And maybe all those other lovers before were wrong
But this felt so right,
Because it felt like they had never been kissed.

People die all the time
I know I do.

When I heard his voice for the very last time,
when I broke that promise not once but twice,
when I forgave someone I never should have,
when I gave it all up for someone who was never
ever
coming back.

People die all the time.
The people we love
become ghosts inside of us,
and I have tried to **** them
I have the scars to show it,
but we keep them alive like this.

I tried to **** him off,
I did,
but instead
I killed myself.

I want to share my cold feet with you in the confinement of our bed.
I want you to be there when the thunder booms and the lightning strikes,
because we all know I need someone to hold me tight.
I want you there in the morning as I'm getting ready, to tell me I'm beautiful as I stare myself down in the mirror,
scrutinizing every detail I hate.

I want to make you your coffee,
I want to know just the way you like it,
even though I can't stand the taste.
I want to share all my secrets that come out at four a.m.,
I want to hold when you're vulnerable as you whisper “make me better, make me better”.

I want to hold you up when you're down,
and be strong enough for two,
I want to
make you better,
make you better.

I looked right at you and I knew you'd break my heart.
All brown eyed and troublesome smirk,
you had heartbreaker written all over you.
But I dove in head first,
like some sort of death wish.
You were a bad boy with bad intentions
and such a charming smile,
and I had every desire to let you poke holes in my battered up heart.

Some days I wake up and I can go
twenty minutes,
maybe an hour,
before I remember you.
But each morning while I
brush my teeth or
hide my face behind make-up,
it'll hit me like a
magnitude 5 earthquake,
that you're gone and I
no longer have my heart.

These last three years have been a prime example
of why not to fall in love,
because it takes too many months to piece your heart back together
after it has been beaten to death by a boy
with pretty brown eyes and charming words.

But if I could promise myself anything,
it would be that the next time I let another touch my lips
they will have to jump high fences and run marathons
before they earn that right.
The next time I let someone hold my hand
I want a five page essay on their theories of love
and a detailed description on how not to break a heart.
When another boy whispers sweet things into my open ears,
I will hook him up to a lie detector
and wait to see his lies.

Because the next time I trip and fall into love,
it'll be forever.
The next time I feel like dragging a blade across my wrists,
I'll kiss your lips instead.
When I feel like putting a rope around my neck
and hanging myself out to dry,
I'll pick up the phone and let you whisper sweet words into my ear.
The next time I have a bottle of pills staring me down after midnight,
I'll grad your hand and let you take me away.
When I feel lost or let down or like I've reached the end of my already short rope,
I'll turn to you.

When I crawl in through the back door
at three o'clock in the morning,
the scent of you still lingers
and hangs off my clothes.
When I turn on the shower and
scrub at my skin,
I can still feel your finger tips
dancing their way down my thighs,
up my arm,
across my spine.
When I lay my head of my pillow
at approximately 3:37,
the world is still spinning
and alcohol is pumping through my blood
but all I can see is the outline of your face in the dark,
despite you being miles away.

It can take
2 hours,
5 hours,
a good nights sleep,
maybe even more,
to get alcohol out of your system.
But it's going to take
much more than time,
to remove you from mine.

I can see right through you.
You hide behind walls with thick bricks,
behind a sheet of mean,
underneath a blanket of humour.
You are as thin as the shear light that shines through the clouds
(you are transparent, I see right through you).

You have memories that have
punched holes through your bones
and made you break,
but you built yourself back up using rusty nails and tape.
You have stories that you've never told
but I've pieced together enough to know,
some of your secrets are never coming out
(but I would listen if you wanted me to hear).

I can see right through you like a worn out sheet.
I don't care that you're transparent,
I'll cover you up.
I'll patch up the pieces after I've cracked them open
(we all need to be cracked open).

I'm sorry I wasn't there
I'm sorry I wasn't there
I'm sorry I could never be there
(I'll always be there)

You left at 11:23 at night
and by 12:02,
it was as if you had never been there.
I stripped the bed of its sheets
and left them to be washed,
I scrubbed the dishes you had used
and stacked them when they were dry.
I hid your hat that you had left
but I slipped on your shirt
and tried my hardest
not to inhale you.
I washed my body of your fingerprints
and my hair of your scent,
because if you couldn’t actually be here
I didn’t want to remember that you had been.

I hear planes taking off every half hour
and it reminds me of the way your heart beats when you kiss me.
I write poems in my head when your lips touch mine and silently write them down when you’re not looking,
because I would never want you to know
you’re my biggest muse,
I would never want you to know
you’re all I can think about.

I want to write about
the one I love,
not the one who left me
high and dry.
You blew cancer into my lungs,
but he pulled the trigger
and I kissed him every day to try and soften the blow.
Now every time my lips touch yours,
I taste blood in my mouth
like a sick reminder of where
my lips used to be placed.

I want to touch you
every day for the rest of my life,
but my hands have been scorched
and burned
from placing them on somebody else.
But the way you touch me
makes me feel as if
all my sins have been erased.

I soon found that
it felt wrong to whisper
I love you
into the midnight air,
because I was so unsure as to who I was talking to
and I wanted you to be the only one
I ever said it to.