she is more than he bargained for.
she has thoughts, dreams,
a magical mind he
didn’t see coming.
he’s spent days sketching her in his mind,
her locks of mahogany,
doe eyes, freckled nose.
he asked her if she wrote about him,
if she saw his mind as beautiful
as he saw hers.
in the warmth of the moment she forgot
to ask him the same thing.

pain is beautiful, right?
that girl,
you see her over there-
what a **** shame.
she’s so sad...
maybe she’ll be my next
community service project,
maybe i’ll turn her pain
into shockingly bright beauty
see the boy over there?
his chestnut hair is disheveled ,
clothes rumpled like
he’s been wearing them for a week
straight.
roll up his sleeves-
those bright pink cuts are
still glistening ,
razor-straight like he used a ruler,
desperate
for even his pain to be perfect ‘cause
oh god who would accept it
if it wasn’t?
look at that wintery pale girl about
ten feet away...
look at that collarbone,
defined jawline!
aren’t you jealous of her self control?
her ribs are jutting out from
under her cheery yellow shirt but
as long as she has a “beach body,”
it doesn’t matter that
her organs are eating themselves.
don’t tell me pain is beautiful.
you can’t see what’s going on
beneath the surface.

dear you,
I don’t know why I still write about you, whatever we had cease to exist, but I guess that’s another concept I cannot wrap my head around.
Half of me screams out that I’m over you, and the other half is still very much in love with you, quite the turmoil you’ve created within my heart.
Some days you don’t cross my mind, and others you’re all my mind wanders to.
Everything reminds me of you though, in some aspect at least.
I cannot stop associating things with the golden haired boy who was the physical form of sunshine with the dazzling blue eyes that looked like the ocean.
The sun feels different now, I hate to go outside and feel it because it makes me feel how you did, you were the sun, you still are.
The ocean makes me sick and pitiful, when I go near I a tempted to drown myself in its glisten, the glisten that’s shared with your eyes.

I still care for you, with all of my heart.
I always find myself wanting to tell you certain things like “you should get some sleep darling it’s getting late” or “I hope you’ve eaten good today” or simply asking if you’re okay, but I stop myself because that’s not my position any longer.

I want to stop loving you and I promise I will eventually
the idea of you is still every much infatuated by my heart
my god i promise to stop loving you, we’re different people now.

I promise,,