you will never be forgotten.
ever.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.

you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b

there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.

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 just want to stay up all night
writing, perhaps.
haikus & slam poetry, written in all caps.
watching the starry sky
with a handsome stranger,
running red lights and trespassing
regardless of danger.
maybe a late-night drive
with the windows rolled down,
a romantic stroll
through this sleepy town.
how about a midnight picnic
with my favorite lover?
whole summer spent promising
there will never be another.
i'll tell you again:
i don't care what we do,
because anything becomes everything
when i'm doing it with you.
-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

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

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 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

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

i
am
trying.

i used to dream in black and white,
grays blending together the scenes that
spin spin spin
until i can't differentiate black from white.
i dreamt about shriveling flowers and endless hallways
and never being able to scream;
and then i met you.
suddenly i was dreaming in color,
a luxury i thought would never come to fruition,
flowers popping and life breathed back into trees.
i never knew how beautiful it was to have someone hold you at 3am,
to kiss your bruises and tell you your scars are angelic
even though the way you acquired them isn't.
i never knew how beautiful it was
to dream in color.

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

and then he looked at me
and said,
“you make me feel like i could win the lottery
with a parking ticket.”
-a.c.b

at 16 years old i fell in love with a boy
with the most beautiful brown eyes i'd ever seen
god if he looked at you the way he does at me
i promise you'd fall too, but
i only paint in blue now
it's not his fault but
i'm kind of really worn down now
it's not his responsibility but
he's breaking all his vows now
says he's always there but
finds an out somehow now
i wish someone would just teach me how
now
to feel okay getting out of bed in the morning, i mean
i know it's the middle of january
and the skies are always grey
but the coldness is much deeper
and the frost comes by and freezes anything liquid
so i guess it makes sense that frozen tears are tripping
down my face
dripping over lace
lies and cries and "yes, i'm fine"s
and it's not just the snow
it's always the rain
disdained complaints of a battle with pain, i mean
every time i open my eyes a little piece of me dies
even with his lips
speaking poetry to the skies
i am still not sleeping at night
my lunch goes uneaten
even the way he touches me
never translates to my dreaming
the nights are always cold now
i've got no one to hold now
'cause the only other person that's ever slept in my bed
is off with the boy who only loved me in my head
i SWEAR i'm happy for them
oh, can't you tell?
i swear i'd smile for you
if i wasn't living in Hell
she was caught in those oceans
the same way as i did
but this time it's all them
it's not one-sided
and that was the first
start to the worse
syllables falling apart when we
used to be well-versed
i'm burst, feel cursed
no way to reverse
i'm sorry this is all over the place
it's a little unrehearsed
but he's running
and she's with him,
he finally found someone that can keep up
i never joined track freshman year so
i can't keep up
but i miss her
more than i kiss him
and yeah, that's a lot--
i guess that's the difference
'cause yes, i found my prince
but we're both struggling to be strong
finally buckling under the things
we've been hiding for so long
but the darkness is the one thing
not changing with the seasons
conspiracy against my own heart
is still technically treason
call me an anti-hero-- i was that night
body on the floor seizing,
doing all the wrong things
for all the right reasons
i'm both objective, subjective, painfully adept at
burning bridges and then regretting the decision
envisioned a better revision
not this painfully clear collision
incision, indecision
no good at provision

my words have become jumbled,
the truth blurs to lies
but he really does have
the most beautiful brown eyes.
-a.c.b

i’m convinced that
i have met an angel in real life,
wings spread and
halo glowing,
lips soft like
the sheets we’re tangled in
sweet like honey, showered
with stars from above
i am
entrapped, ensorcelled
by all that you are.
-a.c.b

my lips are soft lips.
buttery, smooth
the color of ballet slippers.
they smirk
and they pucker
and they curve up on the sides
when i'm trying not to laugh.
my lips are sealed lips.
they do not repeat secrets,
no, these lips are trustworthy lips.
they are still glued shut,
not letting me say the things i want to say, need to say...
there's a reason my poetry
is written down,
not spoken aloud.

his lips are soft lips.
buttery, smooth
the color of pink carnations.
they smirk
and they pucker
and they curve up on the sides
when he's trying not to laugh.
his lips are healing lips.
they heal mine, heal me
when my lips are too tired from telling the same lies i always do.
no, his lips are honest lips.
they are still always candor,
never afraid to tell me
what i need to hear,
whispered in my ear.

our lips are galaxy lips.
when they touch,
even the stars don't know what to do so they explode,
supernovas shattering the Earth,
as the Sun and Moon collide
in a cacophony of stardust.
our lips
are astronomical lips.
-a.c.b

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

my bucket list was always

skydiving
zip lining
fall in love

but i have since realized skydiving is unrealistic
zip lining has been done already
and falling in love...
falling in love is not a box you can check off.

i fell in love with the idea of falling
not knowing it would be
as intense as it is,
like skydiving without a parachute or
the cable breaking while zip lining

except with this,
i don't mind the plummet
in fact, my stomach dropping
feels a little like the butterflies that still kiss my insides
when i see you;

everything else on my bucket list feels
insignificant
because i met you;
that's (almost) enough adventure
for me.
-a.c.b

music’s blasting,
people laughing,
but i feel all alone.
people leer and
you’re not here;
i’m staring at my phone.
“have fun!” they said,
“my friends are dead” says
one particular rapper.
but your absence hurts
from here it gets worse-
i know it shouldn’t matter.
it’s been a week
bad thoughts have leaked
into my own brain.
cause missing you
is like hitting undo
on all the progress i’ve made.
i thought i was through but
now i’m blue
not unlike the color of your eyes.
i’m over mistakes
i’m allowing myself to take
all your empty promises and lies.
so here we are,
i thought i’d gotten far
but it seems we’ve been here before.
i’m tired of being friends
this ******* can end,
boy, i’m ready for more.

she is a charcoal sketch.
she is dark,
jagged at the edges, rough.
she is only a first draft--
soon the pencil marks will be erased
and the best is yet to come.
not only is she a watercolor painting--
pastels bleeding together until
you can't find where
each emotion stops and starts--
but also the dark Sharpie lines
etched in arcs on said painting,
a beautiful composition of
daydream and nightmare.
she is cracked clay.
she crumbles easily, powder
breaking off from her sculpture
in such a way that
no amount of glue will ever reattach.
she may be broken and
cracked in all the wrong places but
sometimes imperfections add beauty
to an otherwise ordinary masterpiece.

i had a dream about you
and, while it worried me that even
my subconscious likes the feeling
of your name swirling in my mind,
i still feel your phantom lips on mine,
the ghost of your fingers
tracing shapes on my rib cage
and, although we’ve never touched like that
i couldn’t help but feel
how right it was,
how we fit like two
magnetic puzzle pieces,
how i would give anything
to have that feeling again.
-a.c.b

hi, welcome to our world,
you must be new.
i'm sure it sounds exciting;
but let me explain something to you.
you're a girl so
things are a bit more tough.
things are hard when nobody listens
when you say "enough is enough."
it's almost like you can't say no--
wait, that's not it.
it's more that when you say that word
they still don't quit.
opinions run rampant--
nothing you ever do or say will satisfy them.
"them" being not only girls tearing each other apart,
it's also men.
this idea of "them" is that you're being attacked,
physically, verbally... it doesn't matter.
they say you have too much makeup,
your stomach should be flatter.
and then it's the clothes...
you wear too much and you're a *****,
too little and you're a ***,
might as well be ****.
like to flirt?
too bad, you put out.
like to keep to yourself?
you're a *****, no doubt.
there's no such thing as winning,
in our society today.
but please, have fun!
enjoy your stay.

this is not a story about us,
it's a story about a girl.
a story about a girl who met a boy
and he became her world.
this boy was not ordinary-
he said he was here to stay,
with marble-etched words
he took her breath away.
reached for both her hands with his own,
looked her deep in the eye,
held her trembling body
until there were no tears left to cry.
and she thought it was right,
thought it was love.
she thought her blue-eyed angel
had been sent from up above.
but all of a sudden he dropped her,
and she crashed, hard, on the ground.
she was scared of his marble-etched words
never again will she be safe and sound.
scared they'll trick her again
into a false sense of security,
make her think she's happier with him
than alone she could ever be.
so this story is not about a boy,
it's about a girl made of diamond.
who learned to trust people again,
got herself off Isolation Island.
so here's to the girl
that shows her scars kindly
and learned the dangers
of trusting blue-eyed boys blindly.

i told you not to make promises you can't keep
yet you still swore to me
you were in this for the forever.
you promised me you wouldn't leave,
and then you left.
should i even be surprised?
they've always left.
-a.c.b

she’s the girl that made you believe in love.
with that infection laugh and
rough-around-the-edges persona,
she made you fall.
oh darling,
she made you fall fast.
she’s the girl that’s beautiful but
will never believe it,
doesn’t see it,
even though it’s pointed out to her all the time.
this girl is bright and oh god does she shine.
even on her dull days,
when the rain won’t stop pouring and
she can’t breathe,
she manages to smile.
she can fool you all.
she’s the girl that keeps them all at bay,
wondering
if she’s making a mistake.
princes flock to her like cattle,
desperate to have their hearts broken
by the girl who’s smile shines brighter
than the whole entire galaxy.

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.

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

and here i was
so foolish,
thinking that i was able to
look into his ocean eyes and
not see a reflection of my own beating heart.

is it bad
that i can already taste the goodbye
on your tongue?
-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.

she feels the absence of anyone touching her,
imagines what it would be like to have
that pretty boy
touch his velvet lips to hers,
imagine what it would be like to feel
his magic rub off on her
to have his words
circulate in her head until she's drunk off his poetry.
she knows
this will never happen,
knows he will soon see into her abyssal soul
realize the cuts run deeper than the ones on her wrist,
realize her storm is
a bit too wild for him.

isn't great for much,
but we get the best sunsets.
no, it's not the caribbean
certainly not santorini
or venice
or the aurora borealis in alaska
but we get by,
with pink cotton candy clouds, edges pinched and dragged
across the inky sky,
edges twirled up like feathers on a dove,
the sky behind dissolving into
shades of indigo and cerulean,
fuchsia and mango,
sunshine and cobalt.
no, they're not life-changing
but they're beautiful to me
yes, we get by
in my little corner of the world.
-a.c.b

it's a good thing i don't share my writing with you
because if i did,
you'd see that
you
are the boy with the ocean eyes and
i
am not really okay.

i told a boy about my darkness,
about the Vantablack, carbon nanotube darkness
that ***** all life & light from my frame.
he ran his fingers through his jet black hair
as he listened, perfectly still.
he didn't run.
instead, he asked questions, mostly starting with "why,"
and i pondered my own black whole
as his hand rested on my knee.
"darling," he had said. "why do you let it control you?"
but i simply smiled, shook my head.
"you've clearly never felt my pain before."

he said
you are so gorgeous in the way
you write yourself on paper,
i've never met anyone
to paint with words.
he said
the birds sing your praises
in the early morning sun,
the dew still heavy on blades of grass.
he said
i have never seen such beauty
grace my irises of green,
never known the word perfect
until i told him my name.
he said
you
        are
                my
                        universe.

it's 1am here
and i can't fall asleep,
don't know of it's all the coffee
or threat of the upcoming week.
but i've talked to my sister, read my book--
i'm out of things to do.
so i guess i'll lie awake
and write some more about you.
we have pictures together on my wall,
places i'd like to go with you, my bucket list cries;
every pop of blue around the room
reminds me of your eyes.
every quote and poem and lyric,
they all sing the same tune
about a boy a girl writes about
every night by the light of the moon.
the letters you've written me
are tucked safely next to my bed,
and i still take them out to read them
even though they're memorized in my head.
maybe it's your handwriting
or the way you try with all your might
to tell me through each word
that it's gonna be alright.
so i'm kinda sorry that
everything reminds me of you,
i guess i'm just in love with
everything you do.

my days are too long,
my mind and heart are tired.
any will or hope to keep pushing
has long since expired.

i've wasted my youth
doing stiff things with stiff people,
a life so destitute of spontaneity
god i want to do everything
with you,
our mouths brimming with poetry
and eyes wild for adventure,
the insatiable wanderlust
to find each other, to find ourselves
alongside the one we love the most
i want to fall
into the unknown with you,
in love with you
break out of the confining four walls keeping me
in the box i've always been in;
salmon skies screaming our names
dusty roads waiting to be driven down
i have found
my ever after in you
i just want to live a life i'm proud of
when i'm 99 years old looking back on my life
looking back at this moment, lying here with you
what
would i change?
my love, i ask of you
what
would you change?
-a.c.b

i’m worried that
i will think i’m over you,
i’ll be carefree moving on,
and then you’ll smile at me.
you’ll touch my lower back,
or you’ll fix my hair
or grab my hand
or pick me up
or call me beautiful
or tell me you love me and
i’ll fall
all
over again.
i’m worried that
i’ll spend my whole life
getting over you.
-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

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

she wore her sadness like a cape,
                                                           ­ her audacity like a veil.

she knew that in his eyes,
                                                           ­ she'd never be his grail.

so she spun her crown of misery
                                                          ­  and disassembled her throne,

and went in search of herself
                                                         ­   for her new heart is her home.

and to this day she's never looked behind;
                                                         ­   he is simply a part of her past.

because now she knows when things are wrong,
                                                          ­  they are never built to last.

my words have always been the strongest part of me.
solid, loud;
they scream my thoughts for me when i can't even get out a whisper...
but lately i haven't been writing as much.
my once resilient syllables are now translucent snowflakes
floating in the air, shattering on my bedroom floor
with each tear.
they are unsure of themselves, a string of vowels and consonants
so violently aware
that there's been a change;
my words have finally failed me.
-a.c.b

i don't want to write
because i know if i do
i'll only be staring back
at reflections of you

but my words have been silenced
for long enough, they cry
to be let out
to be shouted to the sky

it's hard to remain
so calm and even-keeled
when i'm stitching shut a wound
that isn't ready to be healed

but i'm back on my feet
i've gotten off my knees
learning that i'm the only one
i need to please

you can call me cold
i really don't care
but for once i feel okay-
i'm becoming happy, i swear

it's been about three weeks
and he's still constantly on my mind
and while each thought reminds me
of a better time

i'm unlearning the taste
of his lips and his words
forgetting what it felt like
to be someone's "girl"

because being with him made me forget
that i am my own
i don't belong to him or
anyone else
and i am my home

if  you want to make "home" a person
don't make it anyone but you
you're the only one guaranteed
not to just pass through

so i guess this is the start
of my journey to self-love
of acceptance and growth
and belief in the above

and while i'm still not great
i know i'll be there on my own
so thank you, ex-lover,
for teaching me how to be alone.
-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

you made your decision
and now we both have to live with it;

don't even ask-
yes, it's too soon
no, i'm not ready to be friends
no, i cannot talk to you like normal.
why?
because i can't erase your memory from my mind,
because i can't forget your lips
or skin
or how it felt to lay in your arms
or the way the setting sun would color your small room
as we rolled around on top of your sheets...
you made your decision
and now we both have to live with it;
don't tell me how heartbroken you are
and expect me to sympathize...
you broke my heart,

and now you have to live with it.
-a.c.b

we’ve struggled a bit
these past five years,
but we haven’t quit-
through the pain and the tears.
through the darkness and sorrow,
secrets & firsts,
the hope of every tomorrow
helps melt away the hurt.
through feelings like pastel
and feelings like charcoal
you made life feel less like Hell
and me feel more whole.
cause you know some days i’m lacking,
pieces missing from my dome,
the days i feel like just packing
up and going home.
the days i’m afraid to look in the mirror
cause i might not recognize what i see,
you’re there to quell my fear or
just be there for me.
so thanks for all the lovely moods
and words that build me towers,
you’re the one person i know who’s
most deserving of flowers. :)

my beloved, i miss you.
i miss our time spent together,
miss the life you brought into my spirit.
darling,
don’t you miss how thin you were?
i told you that you didn’t want food—
carbs are bad, remember?—
and you were just so beautiful.
the etched lines of your ribs and collarbone,
carefully defined like charcoal on a watercolor painting.
lovely,
don’t you miss our late-night chats?
you told me everything you hated about yourself
and i just held you as you crumbled.
i’m sorry i couldn’t bring myself to console you but
honey,
your pain was just so beautiful...
i couldn’t tear myself away.
how can you not miss our alone time?
your isolation always kept me company—
until that one day.
you yelled at me,
shouted obscenities at me until you were crying,
but different tears than the ones you shared with me
late at night.
you relapsed into our old relationship,
again and again,
until that one day.
i heard you singing in the shower
for the first time since you were ten years old,
heard you open a bag of chips, eat the whole **** bag,
saw your mother embrace you while
tears fell down her face.
i saw you drive away with
that boy,
the one who kisses your scars
and tells you your past is a tragic beauty.
beloved,
i could’ve saved you.
don’t tell me you saved yourself.
we could’ve been just so beautiful.

                                                   forever yours,
                                                          ­  me<3

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