sleeping stars my
head's
confused

ur my favorite
still

and she's probably getting ****** (up) right now

rest in peace
the girl I used to know

funny how
a year ago tonight
we danced
to summer wind
and outside songs,
looked at clouded
navy skies and pretended
there were stars.

how young we were,
that summer.
lived and loved
with firey hearts
and wet lips,
shadows holding hands
under street lamps
and fluorescent walmart lights.

fell for you like a stumble
off a cliff and when I
read the freckles across your face
by the light of the moon
and we argued over the existence of
aliens,
               look, they're right there

soco amaretto lime,
the anthem of our night time
wanderings through the streets
where we grew up,
tripped over my words
like the curb I couldn't see
in the dark, never been out
this late before.

same time next week?

plastic stars on the ceiling of my bedroom,
without my glasses look like splotches of a galaxy
painted a million miles away.
.
take off your glasses and
marvel with me
at the plaster planetarium of my room.

summer. start it over
do it better
grow up

on twitter,
instagram
hellopoetry.com

who are you?
why are you sad all the time?
why are you only happy about your
boyfriends?

to say goodnight again.

i never told her

I hop e I . make yo u sad
some tim es

redesign yourself.
actually do it, this time.

does she get better
in the end?

ok

Everything I write makes me sound self-important,
So I’ll write about something that’s not me.

she does not have a face.
she does not have a name.
I do not know what she looks like,
how her eyes refract morning light.
I do not know what her laugh sounds like,
or how she answers the phone.

I do not know what color her skin is.
I do not know how she will take her coffee.
I do not know if she will drink coffee at all.
I do not know if she moves her mouth when
she reads to herself.
does she know how to dance?
does she love to paint?

will she like roller coasters
and cartoons?
Whataburger and late night rendezvous?

will she like rhyming poetry as much as I do?
will she hate it, as much as you may?
I’ve abandoned all structure,
First, third, and second person.
What even is this?
It’s 1:16 am right now
And I’m tired
But ***** it
Let’s write down some more things
I don’t know about her.

What will she study?
Does she like science and math?
or is she a freak who likes history?
Will she understand my repulsion to Styrofoam?
from which side does she peel a banana?
does she sleep on her back or her side or her stomach?
How much do inconsistent capitalization patterns bother her?
Will she understand that I am marvelously hysterical?
And that no one should seriously use the word ‘marvelous’?

What color are her eyes?
What color is her toothbrush?
What color is her hair?
What color is her favorite shirt?
What is she thinking right now?
What is she doing right now?
I’ll ask her in 15 years.
Maybe she’ll remember.

How many hearts has she broken?
How many times has hers broke?
How many summer nights were spent outside looking out
At the limitless sky wondering if there are any stars left or if all the lights in the sky are now airplanes?

Does she think about me?
Is she asleep right now?
Does she live down the street?
Does she live across the country,
Or a few towns over?
What’s her first initial?
Does she believe in aliens
Or is she wrong?
Does she appreciate this poem’s organization?
This isn’t even a poem anymore and to call it that was offensive.
Sorry.
Goodbye poetry.
Get it?
Because it’s hello poetry but like, not.
Ha, I love myself.

.

Does she love herself?
Yes.
Yes she does.

when the lights are off the music
is louder the blanket
is smaller the voices
are lower my hair
is softer the world
is bigger your face
is blurrier my mind
is opener my heart
beats stronger

JUST NUMB IT WITH LOUD MUSIC
AND **** IT WITH FIRE.

I think I use the phrase "I think" too often.

What month is it, August?

9 whole months ago I started to notice you.
I'd known you for a year already.
I'd notice how you looked at the floor a lot,
and your voice made me smile no matter what you said.
but I was scared to look at you, because
      you're not supposed to stare at the sun,
ya know?

and now we're young and happy,
living each day from
      good morning <3
to
      *goodnight you, sleep well <3

you tell me you love me but
more than just your shadow
dances with another.

how does that work

i think u can tell when I'm doing really well because I don't come here to gripe as much.

♡         You are only fifteen years old. You still have years, and years to be happy. To fall in love. To try new things and make new friends, and finally read that book or learn the words to that song. You have all the time in the world. But a lot of people forget that that time is still finite. And one day it will run out. "I've got time."
           "I'll do that next time."
           "Not right now."
           I'm writing to you to tell you not to wait. You are not stuck. You are not obligated to do anything that doesn't make you happy. More than anything, it is important to understand that the single thing what is most important in your life, is you. Recently, I've had a revelation as to what the purpose of my life is: to fall in love with the world.
           Tonight, the sun will set and tomorrow it will rise again, and that's not something to sigh about. It's not something routine. "What's the point? Everything stays the same anyway."
           The world, your life, your needs and you are constantly changing, and if you don't look up every once in a while from your cushy, comfortable life - if you don't appreciate the growth of the world outside of your own bubble - then you're going to wake up one morning very, very confused.
           Don't take the sun for granted. Don't take your sun for granted. Don't take yourself for granted. You owe it to the world to love yourself.
           Please, do not be afraid of change.
           Please, do not choose what is the most comfortable if it is not what makes you happiest.
    
        
         Please, love yourself. You are all you have left when the sun doesn't rise.

and now I really am happy
and I really am healthy.

I made it.

you are something good and
something nice.

why am i awful

I told her.
She likes me too.

hard to imagine
             remember
a time when you weren't
a distant voice weren't
a million months away

a time when your head
rested on my shoulder.

(come to think of it,
mine rested on yours
more often.)

I don't remember.
this is all I know.

weird to think
I loved you

once.

thinking about you

I need
loud music
better friends.

and now I make up rhymes
so I feel important to myself
but it's
whatever.

I don't remember her
I saw her yesterday
her hair was a lot longer
I don't remember her
favorite color
or what she smelled like.
yes I do, blue, and red.

she wore a different perfume once and I told her
I liked it
so she wore more the next day
and i suffocated in strawberry
and held my breath when i held her hand.

she was my first kiss and i was better than she was she just sat there.
a year later she'd tell her friends i was a bad kisser.
*******.

i tried to talk to her once to make sure she didn't hate me and i got cold silence so i yelled at her and called her names because that's how you handle those kind of situations when you're fifteen and don't know anything about love.

13 months with her and all i learned about myself was that i didn't like her very much, but i liked myself too much to let her go.

her parents were very religious and told her in passing once that anyone she dates has to also be very religious. i was not religious and we had started dating six months before. she tried to get me to find God when i told her i didn't know where He was. i cried, and told my mom.

"if we're not getting married then why are we dating"
"we're in middle school"
"but whats the point if we're not gonna get married why am i wasting my time"
"the point is to have fun and figure out what it's like to be there for someone. the point is to start to try to figure out what love is supposed to be"
"maybe we shouldn't even be dating then."
"if you think that you're stupid.  you're literally 13 years old. calm down"

we dated for seven more months after that.

when we broke up she cried and i didn't, even though shes the one who broke up with me. I'm glad she did, because i probably never would've. not so much a coward as i was fourteen years old. we tried to stay friends but that never goes well, as i know all to well by now. but then, it seemed like the most possible thing in the world because we weren't everyone else. we weren't movies, we were us and we were strong and we survived 13 months.
we didn't realize that we only lasted that long because we never told each other anything.

middle school relationships are **** anyway, youre probably bored of reading about this petty **** that actually doesn't matter at all. but i guess my point is that i still remember all this ****. i still remember. i haven't spoken to her in over a year but i still remember her favorite color and how before i fell in "love" my favorite color was grey, and then it was blue. i still remember how i'd laugh at the music she listened to and she'd get mad at me. i still remember the time we got caught making out under the bleachers, which apparently is something that people actually do. i still remember sobbing on the bathroom floor over her on april fools day, and opening doors for her and sitting next to each other in Spanish class.

these are all stupid things but we were stupid then so its all we had.

i still have all of it,
so i'll still have yours too.
ill see you in two years and your hair will probably be a different color
and ill still have all of it.


i don't know if i want it.