you make me think
that it's all been worth it.
all the drama, all the frustration,
all the tears at 2am
because he didn't love me back.
you make me think
that all my patience is being rewarded,
with this beautiful, amazing boy
who loves me for everything i am,
and everything i am not.
thank you,
for touching me with your words
before your hands.
thank you
for making it all worth it.
-a.c.b

to the boy who brought me flowers on a random thursday morning,
i thank you.
they are sunset orange
like my favorite shirt of yours,
the one that's a little long in the arms
and cradles me like i'm about to break.
there were small fuchsia ones, too--
some half-bloomed
some not yet
some completely opened up,
beautiful petals unfurling like
they forgot they'd ever been closed.
...sound familiar?

to the boy who brought me flowers on a random thursday morning,
i adore you.
the thought of a boy who likes me enough
to sit down and handcraft me a bouquet of flowers just because he knows it'll make me happy
is one thing,
but to have that boy be you
is something completely different.
appreciation like i've never felt before--
you never leave me wondering
if the feelings are really there.

to the boy who brought me flowers on a random thursday morning,
i love you.
thank you for showing me the beauty
in being treated right.
-a.c.b

to be perfectly honest with you,
i'm scared.
i'm scared of a lot of things, actually--
dark rooms and creaky floorboards and losing my loved ones and sharks and haunted houses and tarantulas
but love, i'm scared of losing you.
it's been one month since you've been introduced into my life
and already
my future has been rearranged to fit you in it--
the unconditional love i've been craving.
but i can't stop thinking about the "what if"s,
can't stop buying into the stolen glances
and hushed tones
when we walk down the hallway together hand-in-hand,
a single baritone voice stands out above the whispers says
"i didn't know he liked girls like that."
the word gay
the word ******
circling through my mind like baby what if
we get six months into this thing
and i'm madly in love with you
and you decide
he can love you better?
it's not a specific him,
but the pronoun itself,
the entity, the intangible.
baby what if
my love just isn't enough for you,
my words or my heart or my body--
what if i'm not good enough for you?
you are different; you are special
and you deserve only the best,
only happiness in its truest form.


but baby what if
you no longer find that happiness in me?
-a.c.b

it still feels like a dream, honestly.
the thought of your lips on mine,
hands on my waist,
my hands placed on your chest.
i felt your smile through your kiss,
got to taste just how happy i make you
and that, my dear
is the best thing i’ve ever tasted.
-a.c.b

and he said
“love, of course
you’re in my perfect day.”
he paused.
“you are my perfect day.”
-a.c.b

you are my morning, my evening,
and my night
my everyday love
my hate, my spite.
you are the birds that sing
up in the trees
with that look on your face that
brings me to my knees
you are my weakness, my lover
my passion every night,
every nightmare, every kiss
every makeout and fight.
you are the sky that sets aflame
at 9 in the afternoon
i see an imprint of your smile
in the milky, dusty moon.
i’m in love with every smirk, every
moan and every sigh,
in love with the way i can see my future
reflected in your eyes.
-a.c.b

i am convinced you were sent to me for a reason-
an angel in disguise
i think i'm going to fall in love with you-
i'm almost there, anyways,
but while it terrifies me that it's so soon,
and to relinquish control of my emotions like that,
to fall completely and utterly into someone else...
i have never been happier in the company of another,
i have never known the extent
of full reciprocation,
but darling, i thank you
for showing me how exquisite it is
to be loved by you.
-a.c.b

and then i said
"goodnight, darling, i'm going to bed.
but oh how i wish
i were in yours."
-a.c.b

i've never met someone who has made me realize
sometimes words just aren't enough.
sometimes the feelings surpass the rules of grammar,
stanza breaks,
word choice.
sometimes they surpass each and every one
of those 26 letters,
because not a single one could form a word
that gives justice to your beauty,
to your character,
to how you make me feel.
your love is turning me redundant,
taking away all originality
since every one of my poems now
is written with you in mind.
i'd be upset, except
the payoff is so much greater.
-a.c.b

it's when i think i'm getting better that
i realize i'm not.
-a.c.b

it's true--
i don't love you anymore.

but sometimes i catch your eye between waves in the surf,
that same ocean blue i've always known

like summers by the beach, you are long forgotten like my childhood,
days and nights spent drinking the stars

i will never forget what they taste like
i will never forget what you taste like.

it's true--
i don't love you anymore.

i am with another,
he is more than you ever could have been for me but

why do i still crave your inadequacy?
he is my whole galaxy, his beauty is unmatched and

oh how he makes me feel but
why am i still dreaming about you?

i don't love you anymore-- i promise,
we moved on so long ago i forget what goodbye sounds like

i'm lying.
i could never forget the way you said that,

like it took the strength of a million tsunamis to just
keep it together but oh i don't love you anymore!

it's what i've been trying to say i'm sorry but sometimes
the emotion in my own words gets so caught in my throat

i forget how to breathe because
i still see your eyes between the waves.
-a.c.b

oh how i wish i could write words
half as beautiful as you are, my darling
the way your eyes sparkle when you speak of what you love,
the way i get drunk off the taste of your smile.
my love you are soft,
soft like the sheets we are tangled in, i know
you see me as a daydream but you are the best one i’ve ever had.

like the air is being squeezed out of my lungs,
cheeks growing hot,
tears springing to my eyes
as i bite down on my tongue, hard.
and just like that, you're there
tapping my shoulder,
searching my face with worry once you realize
i'm not
actually
fine.
and then you walk with me,
then you talk with me,
talk me down from the ledge of my anxiety,
make me forget i was even
on the ledge.
but then, just like that
you hug me goodbye
and it all comes flooding back-
the fear and the heart rate
and the overwhelming
sadness
when i know i promised myself
i would stop letting other people be my happiness. i can not
let you be my happiness.
-a.c.b

i wouldn’t say i’m cynical,
just a realist.
-a.c.b

from a secret admirer:

i remember the first time i saw you;
you were wearing that
soft periwinkle sweater i love,
the one that hangs off your curves in the same delicate way
you choose each word so carefully,
like each one holds the consequence
of each broken heart.
i hope one day i can
break down those walls,
show you how beautiful you are to me.
until then,
sleep well, la mia musa.

response:

i remember the first time i saw you, too;
you were wearing your favorite navy shirt and i couldn't help
but notice your ever-present beauty
past the hurting,
past those chocolate eyes that hide
everything you've pushed down for so long.
i would love to be
la tua musa.

you are happiness-
like ice cream on a hot day,
green lights when running late,
new countries & new friends.
you are comfortable like a rainy Sunday afternoon,
smooth legs & soft sheets,
the sweet scent of a newly-lit candle.
i know it's early but
you make me feel safe
and i could get used to your arms being my second home.
i think of the feeling of your warm hand on mine
and that is what i feel-
home.

it's hard to focus on your distant image
with his so clear in front of me,
growing stronger by day
yes, you are still in my mind
but my brain seems to like him more--
playing image after image of his chestnut hair
and sweet smile,
kind words and warm hugs
while your curly hair and crooked teeth
are only played
when your name shows up on my phone.
yes, my brain likes him better
but the real question is
how does my heart feel?

with every last drop of ink
i would spell out your beauty like the stars,
i would give up my life of writing
just to say
i love you.
-a.c.b

first you need to pick a red flag of a boy.
make sure he's got beautiful eyes,
and a smile you can write poetry about.
actually,
make sure he is poetry--
find metaphors in his dimples and
similes in his crooked teeth.
the catch is, he can't be a good one.
he must have a tragic flaw,
something your friends can't stop pointing out to you.
for now, ignore those warnings and just focus on him--
talk to him whenever you can,
think about him,
write about him.
become drunk off his voice and imagine what his lips taste like.
fill your daydreams with phantom thoughts of him,
months & months flying by until
you can't imagine life without
the beautiful boy in the grey sweater.
now remember--
you're not actually with him yet,
yes
this builds the suspense
makes you wonder
if you'll ever actually taste his lips.
so keep your comfortable distance,
give him time
to make up his mind
if he wants to date you.
yes,
you've heard how he is with other girls,
you've heard what he's done to their ****** hearts
but oh never
could this boy do these horrendous things
he's too pure
says all the right things
but oh always
is the question banging in the back of your skull, now you MUST
give into those urges,
do it
feel it
ask it, ask him if he's
ever
going
to love you.
but you'll wish you hadn't,
because the hesitation will already be out of his mouth
before you can take it back,
his next words along the lines of:
"i thought we'd maybe just
have some fun together, if you know what i mean"
and the broken angel he's been hiding from you
for months,
the monster your friends have been warning you about
for months
will finally be brought to the light.
and that splitting pain of betrayal will come flooding in--
i'm telling you
this is a surefire way
to break your own heart.
-a.c.b

i am from innocence.
i am from rainy days and lonely nights,
words smeared across pages because
i can’t get them out fast enough.
i am from stanzas upon stanzas and ink-stained fingers
as i dream of new ways to say what’s already been said.
i am from words of love, words of anger,
struggling to find the words
to describe his eyes, i can’t.
but that’s okay, because to me, he is poetry
and
poetry has been the one consistency in my life.

i am from travelling the world.
i am from plane rides-
from the mountains of Italy
to the city of Lisbon
it’s safe to say
i have lived.

i am from 4am small talk with my best friend,
questioning our life decisions
between cheesy rom-coms,
thanking Fate and the Universe
for introducing the two of us.,
i love her
for accepting me
when i couldn’t accept myself.

i am from my dad’s famous waffles,
from Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven
and cold glasses of milk coming home from school.
i am from my grandmom tucking me in,
my mom hugging me goodnight,
my sister and i staying up way past when the lights were supposed to be turned out.

i am from New Year’s Eve countdowns,
pots and pans banging on my front porch
as a new set of resolutions
hangs in my room,
waiting to be broken.

i am from a school full of jerks… that i fell for anyway,
empty words and velvet lies, luring me in
just so i can break my own heart
at the end of it.
but i am from believing in soulmates,
because two live in my very house with me,
23 years later and the flame hasn’t diminished-
i know
i will find my Prince Charming,
somehow, one day.

I am from creased brows and mild confusion
when the teacher asks for strong boys
to carry the desks;
i am from being resigned to the edge of the classroom,
implications that
i am weak.
i am from “sit like a lady”
and
“young women don’t speak like that.”
but actually,
i am a young woman
and i’m
“speaking like that.”
i am from being the only one in my karate class
with my toenails painted pink;
they have accepted me now,
i am just another black belt,
my long hair swishing behind me in a ponytail
as i kick harder than half the boys next to me.

i am from beautiful chaos,
like entropy
in a sundress. i think
my madness is magnificent--
like the prettiest mess you’ve ever seen., it’s true-
i am from a lifetime of figuring things out
and though i’m not there yet,
i’m a hell of a lot closer
than i’ve ever been.
-a.c.b

poetry is the way the air whispers to you
after a heavy rain,
tickling your nose and
fluttering your eyelashes,
the sky grey like your eyes
you see poetry
as you listen to the clouds move
you paint it--
with words, that is,
the flow of the letters steadily inking the page like
the rain last night i think
poetry is the way we breathe.
-a.c.b

it's not something i can exactly pinpoint,
but more the fact that
in a stadium full of 500 screaming peers,
i've never felt more alone.
even making brief eye contact with you, smiling,
then looking away
didn't alleviate the pain ebbing through me now.
it's not something i can exactly put my finger on,
but more the fact that
you were standing so close to her,
talking, laughing
while i stood rows below
loneliness wrapped around me,
even as my friends stood next to me, shoulder to shoulder.
i know you're not mine,
but you're not the only one who gets a little jealous.
it's not something i can exactly pinpoint,
but more the fact that
it's a little too dark tonight.
-a.c.b

my hand grazed your bicep
i was jostled, i landed in your chest
i laughed as you joked
suddenly feeling out of breath.
you flashed that smile, threw up a peace sign
i could see your face perfectly.
butterflies playing bumper cars in my stomach
god, the way you were looking at me.
it lasted only a moment,
felt like two or three
but two hours later and i can’t stop thinking about it
there’s no place i’d rather be
than with you right now,
i yearn to meet your eyes
to talk for hours and kiss and laugh
and never say goodbye.  
my head says “don’t catch feelings”
but my heart says “why not?”
you’re sensitive, smart, and funny
and so freaking hot!
i’m trying to stay away, i swear
but it’s so **** hard
because you walked into my life and blinded me
by the perfection you are.
-a.c.b

all i ask for
is a little effort
in return.

i can feel your tangible thoughts
ebbing through the phone i know
you’re hurting, i know
there’s nothing i can do but
here we go again with my overthinking
and my mind running
untamed, unchecked
you’re so ******* unpredictable but
god you’re so enigmatic i want nothing more
than to run my fingers along your jawline
please stop hurting
you are far too special
to be so alone.
-a.c.b

you are such beautiful chaos
like entropy
in a sundress
-a.c.b

when you saw me in the halls today
i’m sure i looked happy.


that is how good i am at lying.
-a.c.b

i’m like King Midas,
surrounded by gold, the best
but i don’t touch it,
can’t touch the very material
i give off,
can’t make myself the kind of happy
i (apparently) make others.
i give off pure gold,
24k happiness,
but the metal grows cold in
my veins, turns solid
letting the worst seep into my bloodstream
and the best
swirling through the veins of the ones
around me.
oh, how i wish
i could get a taste of that
24k golden sun.
-a.c.b

i’m used to rainy days.
and it’s okay,
because i’ve always loved the rain,
loved the smell of it
and feel of it
and taste of it, as an earthy drop
lands on my lips.
i know that there are
unexplained rainy days,
where nobody could predict it
but the storm hit so
hard & heavy
that it couldn’t help but drown the one,
unlucky girl standing under the rain cloud.
but i also know that
these days are supposed to be
few & far between, at least
where i’m from.
but lately,
(does the last two years still count as “lately?”)
the rain clouds keep showing up,
pounding me again & again
before i get the chance to breathe
like an unrelenting ocean.
i honestly can’t remember
what the sun feels like,
and that scares me
because the girl once filled with it
is now soaked,
waterlogged—
rain streaming out of every pore.
too much of anything can
make you hate it—
i can now confidently say that
i hate the rain.
-a.c.b

it’s so much easier to just
let myself drown in my tears than
to fight back.
-a.c.b

i miss how reliable you used to be;
whether it was 3pm or
3am
you were there,
picking up the phone, bleary-eyed and tired
face immediately creasing with concern
ready to calm my shaking body with
your velvet words
or celebrate my latest success
with excitement as if it were your own.
now, you don’t pick up the phone
i’ve stopped calling you
cause what’s the point
when i know you just don’t care anymore.
-a.c.b

it’s midnight and i’m
overthinking, of course
because what else would i be doing?
it’s my favorite nighttime activity,
you know
letting my brain pick apart
every conversation we’ve ever had,
letting it bully my heart into believing
i made it all up in my head;
he could never love me anyways.
the tears are streaming freely now,
and i’m not exactly sure why,
all i know is i’m tired
and it’s not because it’s midnight.
-a.c.b

it’s at night i feel the most alone,
when my insecurities come out to play
and the only light
is coming from the flickering lightbulb
beside my bed.
you see, this is why
i time stamp all my poems written after 11pm, because i know after that
is entering
the Lonely Hours, as i call them
and anything i write then
should be taken with a grain of salt.
it’s not on purpose,
it’s just because i know myself
and i know
the Lonely Hours will always come.
-a.c.b

i don’t sleep
in a black lacy bra and ***** shorts
with the perfect messy bun and
smoky eyeshadow
but instead,
usually a pair of old shorts
and a baggy t-shirt of my dad’s,
my hair hanging straight
over my shoulders.
you may think i’ve got
great style
when you see me at school,
with my thick dark lashes
and glossy lips
and hair styled back,
but as soon as i get home
the sweats are pulled on
right after the glasses are.
my cheery smile
replaced by a passive face,
usually worse,
and a notebook and pen
already finding themselves
in my hands.
gone is the girl
with the flirty attitude and skinny jeans.
the Real Me lies in wait
for somebody to see past
skin deep.
-a.c.b

i must ask myself,
“what is it that
i’m really afraid of?”
i guess, all this time
i’ve been under the impression that
we feel the same way.
just suppressing our feelings until
we can make sense of them but
what if i’m wrong?
what if you meant it
when you said that
you were riding this one out solo?
i guess that’s what’s stopping me
from telling you,
from giving you that letter.
at this point,
i don’t know if i could take
another romantic failure, another
set of months spent
crying and fuming
and writing angsty breakup poems
about a boy i never even dated.
i guess i’m still afraid of
rejection.

in any kind of relationship- friendship or romantic or otherwise, one of the few things i ask for is honesty. if you're gonna be honest with me, then i'll show you that same courtesy now: i'm pretty sure i like you. in all honesty, the "pretty sure" is a safety net in case you turn me down, in which case i can say "oh, i wasn't 100% there anyways," and then go eat a whole pint of Ben & Jerry's and cry until i'm over it. over it, and you. so yes, i like you, and i'm 100% there and 100% ready for you to break my heart. the former was a joke. but yes, i love that you're sensitive and love rom-coms and listen to smooth jazz and write ******* screenplays in your spare time and you don't think my writing is lame (in fact, you kinda love it) and you're not afraid to disagree with me and tease me and you're the perfect balance of sweet and smooth and oh god you're gonna break my heart, aren't you? we're taking it slow, and i'm warming up to the idea of you, the idea of your presence in my life and, i must say, you would be a nice decoration on my life's walls. so although you won't read this i need you to know that      
i like you.
-a.c.b

my therapist told me that
i gravitate towards
the broken ones,
the ones who often
anchor their sinking ship to mine,
not even stopping to think that
they might take me down
with them.
she tells me it shouldn’t be this way,
that there’s a difference between
lending a helpful hand and
selling my soul to help
a boy i barely know.
but the truth is,
i don’t know how
to stop,
don’t know what it’s like to
help someone
without expecting the inevitable pain
at the end.
-a.c.b

i was trying to pay attention to your voice, and what you were saying
but instead,
my mind kept wandering to
your crooked teeth,
and the way your eyes crinkle into almonds
when you laugh,
and your t-shirt fitting snugly
around your muscles
and the way your top lip curls down when you smile and
your lips & your lips & your lips.
darling i’m sorry for staring but
you’re adorable,
in a **** kind of way
and the way you glance down at your shoes when you smile
and then back up again
makes me want to kiss you so bad i’m sorry
because i know we silently agreed to take things slow but
i didn’t anticipate you catching me
the way i was caught.
-a.c.b

i’m trying to convince myself
that i don’t love you
but it’s hard when
you can taste poetry on my tongue.
-a.c.b

if you were hurtling towards the busiest road in your town, too
with a life full of darkness only occasionally
breached by the sun
you might not think i'm crazy for saying
in that split second moment,
vision blurred by the rain or my tears i don't know,
but i wasn't sure
if i was going to stop.
-a.c.b

i'm sure the neighbors looked out their windows
streaked with rain,
saw the girl walking along, draped
in rainclouds she was grey,
everything about her screamed sadness,
all the life within her had
long since died.
i'm sure they were concerned,
i'm sure they pitied her,
wondered how the clouds had fallen from the sky
and clung to this girl, with that lovely smile
and sparkling eyes oh how they wished
she would just step inside
and wait for the sun.
-a.c.b

somehow your words struck such a
chord within me,
those delicate sentences strung together with
pure emotion i wonder
how the same 26 letters could create
something the complete opposite.
you took your hands and
pried your chest open,
showed me the heart inside, showed me
what that heart beats for
while making it clear
it doesn't beat for me.
-a.c.b

for someone so guarded,
i sure get attached easily.
-a.c.b

the coffee is warm
as it slides down my throat,
the heat spreading through my chest and
down to my stomach i know
the sun is rising somewhere up to my right,
amber rays hitting my hunched shoulders
and back,
but my mind is focused on the lines swirling in front of me,
words strung together just begging
to be said aloud,
letters floating all over the page until
they take the shape of
my best dream and worst nightmare,
my apologies and angry rants and
all the times i’ve fallen in love without reciprocation
and the boys i’ve hurt and people i never want to forgive.
i write about early morning sunrises
and late night stargazing
and all the feelings i’ve never felt,
strangers i’ve never kissed in
foreign streets but i know
one day these letters will float off the page,
take shape in
a little place called Reality...
but for now,
it’s just me,
the coffee,
and my poetry,
melding together under
the rising sun.
-a.c.b

you met a girl who
cried raindrops,
tasted of champagne and regret but
oh did she love so hard
i never got a chance to feel how soft she could be
i was too busy drinking in her mahogany eyes and
lightly tanned skin-- by the gallon, gulping
trying to get air in between sips like
an aged merlot she was
timelessly magnificent.
i swear to you
she had the sun within her,
could shine so bright but
a single cloud could wash it all away,
dim her, shroud her
in stringy clouds of despair i swear
i would've done anything
to burn away those clouds.
-a.c.b

i made you appreciate the sun.
you made me forget it was raining.
-a.c.b

i see visions of you in my subconscious,
words tumbling out when i see your face,
fumbling to find
the proper adjectives to describe you
i can’t
because there is no one on this planet
who can love me so intangibly,
so inarguably i can't
even focus because you’re always on my mind,
every other thought tinted cerulean,
every thought turned
patterns of your words so weaved into
my life i thank you
for being the one constant in my life,
so consistent in bringing me up
from the depths of my own darkness i don’t mind
that the pain is draped over my heart when
your face is draped over my mind.
-a.c.b

the pain is draped
over my heart, squeezing
more than a tug,
snapping, the heartstrings break
one by one.
and one by one,
my insecurities come hurtling at me
from where they were protected,
locked away by your words,
now bursting at the seams to remind me
how weak i truly am.
-a.c.b

the tears are falling from more
than just my eyes.
they are falling from
my soul.
-a.c.b

i’ve always loved the rain.
but today was different.
today the rain wasn’t hydrating me,
the rain was drowning me.
poundingpoundingpounding
so hard yet
i couldn’t get up,
just laid there under a smoky sky
a monotone grey
letting the raindrops hit me,
one by one a pinprick
a sting
of the cold water on my bare stomach.
i couldn’t speak, couldn’t move,
couldn’t breathe,
yet at least it reminded me
i am still alive.
-a.c.b