150 down a main road
Ditched the 5'O
*******, angry
Him running his mouth's
the only music playing

Different dealers on hold
Oh baby, please don't lose control

I've gambled makin money (in not so good ways) lots in my time,
& each time I did it, made myself a pretty dime
But this round fella's
This games gettin old
Drop my cards to the table
I'm out
I fold.

I lay
still on my uncovered
mattress, the bottom
sheet has been somehow
lost in the
abyss of my blanketed
hideaway

The tree
branches broken, their
remains still sway
another lonely night
another bitter,
cold day awaits.

Goosebumps scatter
themselves amongst my
arms and I cannot
stop the clattering of
teeth. Programmed,
trained to be sustained throughout
life, I'm a puppeteers
finest masterpiece.

I dream,
I sew clovers together
in hopes to find
dumb luck
But the vines, in disguise
with a mind of their own
grow to imprison me
caged, stuck

*****.

the longer
I stare
at you;
the more
things
I find to
hate
about
you.

Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-

Today my boyfriend said he loves me
My mother always told me not to say it back if it was something I didn't mean
My father always told boys only say that to get into your jeans
Taylor Swift said a boy would make me feel this way at age 15
I keep thinking about how my life should be
I didn't even want to be with someone until like age 23
But then he came along and showed me a whole new universe I had never seen
He makes me laugh and cry and scream
And I can't help but wonder what three simple words could mean
There is so much I've been told and I don't know what to believe
Three words don't mean anything
I asked him if they did and he said what do they mean to me
I said I didn't know a thing
But if I think about it, I guess it's eggs in the morning when you're hungover from the previous evening
It's being miles away and still not cheating
It's holding hands and PDA and kissing
It's yelling and tears and fighting
It's laughing and it's crying
It's climbing the ladder together, even if there are a ton of steps missing
Maybe it's just listening
Maybe it's everything
Maybe they don't mean anything
Today my boyfriend told me he loves me
I don't love him back
I said I love you too, and it's something I didn't mean
It's not that he isn't good enough..
It's just, the word love isn't big enough to express my feelings
I am enchanted
I am speechless
I am all in, head over heels
Falling down a hill
I am taken back
I am double taking
I am walking on clouds
Words are too small
Actions are too small
The universe is too small
I am too small to be loved.

Today my boyfriend said he is in love with me
I said it back, but it wasn't true.

My throat must a venue
                                       for The Lonely Hearts Club Band



I swallow my pulse
                                 and hold my tongue in my hand.


                                

Vivid lucid reality,  
                               popping all my stitches at the seams




on the other line, your consciousness fades
                                                           ­           as I envy your quest for dreams.





You're always in my heart though,
                                                      ros­ary beads in hand with your protection





for it is in nights like this, I simply wish
                                                         for a moment of undying affection.






Arms around me through the night,
                                                          ­ the morning sun in his hazel eyes;




filled with smiles for all eternities
                                                      ­& a stomach full of butterflies.




                                                            ­                                                   xo

I search
                                      for the words

                                                          ­                     I
wrote on my hips;

                                              but
                                                                ­              not another word,

                  left my frozen lips.

                                                          ­                      There is no way to
                                                                ­      springtime,

        the winter,
                   takes her tole.

                                                               ­       I bury myself away,
                                                         in this 3 pillow,
                                           double bedded hole.

Darling, but I keep myself sane.
               I dream of flowers in my hair & the warmth in your name.
    Early July conversations,
                        tapping strings, how we'd softly sing
                                           & were guided to one another's lips
      at the very touch of our finger tips.
                               I always thought I was better than this,
                                                                                                 but
                                                             ­            Love,
                                                                ­              
                                     Your heart is one I often miss.

Some boys you look at-
you begin to see
fatherhood etching it's age
against their shoulder blades-
creating lines between their brows
some boys you look at
will die young
of mere stupidity.