It's hard to explain.
The patterns in my brain
are like scratches on a CD
when all you want
is to listen to the music
but the **** thing
keeps on skipping
and repeating
certain parts
while everyone else
is dancing in their cars
and you're just trying
to drive and
breathe.

I'm falling down into my shadow
It seems I had no light after all.
So comes the night, enveloping my soul in a cool star kissed breeze
So comes the distant lights, shining comfortably and constant
When all have abandoned...

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

Solían decirme que pensaba muy alto.
Me recordaba al dicho de la lengua que se comió el gato.
Pero no es la falta de lengua el problema,
Ni la falta de palabras, sino un exceso de ellas.
《》
No sé cómo terminar el poema. No sé cómo dejar de sentir pena por ella. Por la chica que conociste y la que ahora toma su lugar. Tampoco sé cómo decir que te extraño; que no quiero que esto se nos haga cantos, que quisiera estar descansando a tu lado. Solo espero que me leas y sepas que hablo de ti, y que me puedas dar tiempo para ser la chica que fui.

I always thought, "he'll notice me."
        
        "don't look his way" day after day

"play hard to get" our lips have met

          "Keep your distance" see no difference

"live your life right in front of him
           and drive him crazy" this won't faze me; lies

Little did I know
he didn't care
and he still doesn't

               except for this time I do...this time I notice you