Each flower
I picked for you
I wished and wished
For your words to be true

But even the stems
Knew you told lies
Slowly, they shrunk
Without saying their goodbyes

Each flower i picked
Reminded me of your eyes
And the stems were are strong
As your permanent lies

avalanche, mystifying icon
you are still on my bright screen
yet i no longer linger upon yours

lo and behold i try to
muster up the courage to
approach you
only to fail, flee, or **** it all up.

he asked what I wanted to do. I said
write poetry
or
die.
he said
they were the same.

you dream,
you hope

10w heartbreak, heart-hate,
death

you dream,
you hope

broken dreams,
night time poetry:

'time you dream.

Funny how
I write poems on my phone in class
Inconspicuous enough
Ignored enough
To be passed off as texting
Camouflage
Blend into the line where cool meets socially acceptable
Cowardly fingers pause in thought
What metapho-
Er
Reply
To type out
He notices
Smiles
I am ashamed
Of either my actions
Or my cowardice
And I'm not sure which
And I'm not sure why