it's terrifying
to pour your heart, your soul
the parts of yourself that
could break you,
into something that is not so much of a thing
but instead a piece of your very
being,
and have it turned down,
rejected,
spit on.
how do you recover
from such a loss?
-a.c.b

today i feel like velvet.
forest green velvet, to be exact.
today i flow like a waterfall of jazz notes,
a crescendo over a tuxedo piano.
my soul feels soft;
slinky, too,
like it could melt with anyone and
create something beautiful.
today i taste like salt,
mostly because tears are sliding down the back of my throat
and my eyes are the Dead Sea
and oh god, you actually thought i was sugar, didn't you?
today i am a nightmare,
robed in a lacy white dress and stuck under a peach sky.
i'm sure you'll tell me i look beautiful.
would you say the same if you knew i wrote about you?
today i am the ink of a ballpoint pen...
i'm sure you know what it's like to doodle calligraphy
on the corner of your math homework when suddenly
and ink blot appears
where the last letter of my name should be.
well, that's me.
everything is perfect--
until it's not.
today i am beautiful trauma.
try to hold me down.
i dare you.

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

“but i miss him.”

and what can you say to that?
there are no words that can come from
your lips
that will make her forget
the taste of his.

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

do you ever re-read my words?
do you ever find yourself
flipping through old pages,
clicking through old poems
just to get a taste of my soul?
i see you sitting there, deep in thought.
are you craving my poetry?
i'm sure you're wishing you could visit me in the galaxies
i made for you,
take a swim in the cerulean waters floating through space.
tell me-- do you still dream in black and white?
or have my words sparked a palette within you,
a painting you'd never seen?
i gave you access to a world once shrouded
in petty ideas of logic,
instead of canyons full of literary masterpieces.
i think you do more than "re-read my words."
i think you become them.

no amount of drugs
could have ****** me up as bad
as you did.

i fell in love with a shadow of a man,
all smoke and mirrors,
but the smoke is thick and dark-
it circles around my lungs and squeezes
when he is not with me;
he embodies the mirror 'cause god
the only time i see myself
is when i'm looking up at him.

i fell in love with a shadow of a man...
and now i am nothing
but smoke and mirrors.
-a.c.b

i promise to make pain look beautiful,
i will make you wish for thorns instead of roses
just so you can feel my ebony words,
just so you can choke on the bitter truth
for a while.
i promise to paint love as the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen,
i will make you give everything
to have a world of your very own.
i promise to hold a permanent spot in your mind,
trail through your thoughts like music notes,
feelings so overwhelming you can’t breathe.
i promise to have you scribbling lines on any surface you can get your hands on,
post-its and notebook pages and tree bark
and your ex-lover’s lips.
i will make you ******* words, cloyingly
sweet with an acrid aftertaste once you realize
”oh, he’s not actually hers.”
i promise
to make you feel something.

my mother tells me i’m lucky,
father says i’m blessed.
but it’s hard to count any blessings
when i’m always out of breath.
grandma says i look pale,
it’s because i’m not getting enough sleep.
when the farm becomes abandoned
it’s hard to count any sheep.
i’m a mess who makes more messes,
sister tells me it’ll be alright-
that even in my darkest moments
i must remember to turn on the light.
but i think the lightbulb’s broken
or maybe much too dim,
because the only joy i feel
is when i’m looking up at him.
i’m tired of being sorry,
i’m sorry for being tired.
in life these days my
happiness and satisfaction isn’t required.
so it ***** if i’m a disappointment
but it’s hard to focus on grades
when instead my mind likes to relive
every mistake i’ve ever made.
i really didn’t mean to hurt you
i hope you can learn not to be mad.
i just wish i didn’t always go through the day
feeling so ******* sad.

it’s days like these
where even you,
you— my fallen angel,
my solace,
my everything,
can’t even lift the rain cloud.
it’s days like these
where even you,
my Atlas,
can’t carry the weight of the world
away from my shoulders.
-a.c.b

you know it's bad
when i would rather deal with my unmedicated depression
than this loss of you.
-a.c.b

i can’t do this anymore.

my tears are made of paper and
origami cranes are floating down my cheeks;
your eyes have never looked so gold
and mine have never looked so grey,
something tells me those cranes aren’t
waterproof-
they are filling with water, disintegrating into
rivulets of water and paper
my eyes are hardening every time i look at you
while yours are melting;
my cranes no longer have the strength
to fly.
-a.c.b

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

tell me what you want to hear
and baby i will write you the universe.
-a.c.b

she was never the pastel rose petal
so many wanted her to be,
never compared to a summer’s day,
never flowered with affection from
princes.
she was rough,
slanted, lines kind of
blurred around the edges.
she was lonely,
and not afraid to show it, her
kaleidoscope heart reflecting patterns of her thoughts,
casting iridescent shadows
on anyone near her.
they couldn’t help but to be drawn
to this enigmatic girl,
desperate to worship her kingdom
and
take away all the hurt.
she was never just “beautiful” to anyone.
she was always
so much more.

i prematurely miss you,
dreading the day i no longer know you,
the day your heart no longer beats for me,
the day you no longer kiss my forehead
and twirl my hair around your finger
absentmindedly.
i dread the day you no longer tell me
“i love you”
at least 10 times a day,
(just in case i forget)
the day you no longer write poetry
inspired by me,
the day you no longer want to grow up and start a life in the city together,
grow old and live out one life together.
i dread the absence
of my name in your mouth,
your cologne in my sheets,
my clothes on your floor.
i dread the day
i no longer know you.
-a.c.b

cerulean. like the crayon, or the Anguillan ocean, or the color of my favorite blue shirt, darker but with flecks of periwinkle too, and kind of a sparkle to them, without trying to be cliche here. 100% the most beautiful eyes i’ve ever seen, and that’s everyone included- it’s not just because i’m in love with him. they brighten when he’s happy, or when i’m happy and he’s looking at me because he knows it takes a lot for me to really truly be happy. and they’re framed by these long blonde lashes that are the sand to the ocean of his eyes and honestly i could go swimming for hours. once when we watched a sunset together the amber rays were reflected so they had a gold tint to them and i really don’t think i’ve ever spent so long explaining the color of someone’s eyes but the only reason i say “red” when people ask me my favorite color is because no one wants to hear me say that my favorite color is his eyes.

in a world so hellbent
on no one being broken
i sure do get told a lot
that i can be fixed
-a.c.b

it's funny;
i didn't remember what it was like to be young,
i mean,
i'm young now but
i guess what i mean is happy.
i don't remember what it's like to be happy.

the one before you tried to heal my scars.
he always said
"baby, no one wants to buy damaged goods."
and i always nodded my head, kissed his cheek,
let him try and heal my scars so i would be
his perfect angel.
then you came along,
you encouraged me to leap under the fiery sun,
let my scars burn white hot like an angel's wings.
you always said
"baby, no one wants a carbon copy;
your scars make you the best kind of uniquely beautiful."
and although you may be gone now,
i will always remember to dance under the fiery sun
and let my scars burn white hot...
just like an angel's wings.

i find it hard to believe
that everything happens for a reason when
after two years of drowning in my own sadness
i found happiness
and three months later he was ripped out of my arms.

i find it funny how
one person can trick you into thinking
we're not all going to end up alone
but really
after 80 some-odd years on this planet
we are alone for the rest of eternity
so i guess i don't see the appeal
of finding someone for those short several decades.

i find it quite ironic
that the source of your infinite happiness
and eternal despair
can be the same exact boy with olive skin and dark freckle under his right eye
he who can start a panic attack rising in your chest
with one glance across the crowded gymnasium.

remind me how to forget.
-a.c.b

hello, old friend,
it's been a while.
i forgot what it was like
to see you smile.
like the Heavens opened up
and stardust rained down,
my luck of finding you...
i don't know how.
you grab my waist and pull me in,
your lips touch mine
through the obsidian wind.
hello, old friend,
i've missed you some,
your eyes help melt away
some of the numb.
which is funny, i know,
since they're glaciers themselves.
but they've melted my heart
since the time we were twelve.
but, old friend,
not much has changed? every strike of the clock
you take my breath away...
the key to my lock.
a feat not easy,
when my aura is as dark as it is.
i long for the day
i will again taste your lips.
hello, old friend,
it's been a while.
thanks for reminding me
what it's like to smile.

i wish i were an artist,
wish i could paint the way i’m feeling
as a beautiful sunrise
or an unimaginable storm.
i wish i knew how to illustrate without using words...
words are not reliable.

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

the only thing stronger
than the love i feel when we’re together
is the deafening loneliness
when we’re not.
-a.c.b

so at the end of the day
turns out the lightbulb broke.
extinguishing all light,
turned my dreams to smoke.
throughout the years i’ve learned
there’s no monster underneath my bed,
if you didn’t already know,
he lives up in my head.
he claws at my brain,
pushes tears out of my eyes,
makes me soil the truth
by telling these lies.
he has the string and i’m the puppet ,
just thought you should know
i mean it when i say
i’m at an all-time low.
as the rain pours down
so do the tears down my face,
ripped the diamonds from my neck
and tore apart my lace.
glued the headphones in my ears,
pulled away from the people who care,
“doesn’t matter.” he whispers.
“they were never going to be there.”
so he’s made a home for himself
up there in my head,
Farmer Joe, there’s a reason
all your sheep are dead.

it came up behind you out of nowhere;
one day you were sitting there,
laughing with your friends under a tangerine sky
and now
you're wondering when, exactly, everything got so grey
and why you're no longer excited for your future
and why you no longer like to make eye contact in the mirror
and why you gravitate
towards all things
a little broken.
i know why...
you see yourself in them.
-a.c.b

i've given you what i have
i'll give you what is left
all of me, the remnants
of what they've left behind;
my everything is yours,
even the parts i love
would look better in your eyes
than they ever did in mine;
i am giving you permission
to break my heart
at the end of this,
call me cynical, i know i am
but i can't help but imagine
the privilege it would be
to sit there, surrounded by a pile
of all my shattered parts,
knowing they were broken
by you.
-a.c.b

why does everyone want to live within the
halo of their love?
why is their future lover going to be
a golden angel, light coming off of them
in tsunamis?
i do not want him to be my Savior,
i'd be just as content with an angel of darkness,
darling would you like
to be my angel of darkness?
with those jagged edges i know
i know
you are ripped and torn in all the wrong places,
have been told so many times
you are an outcast.
but in my universe,
you are my anti-Savior,
my plot twist in "forever and always."
i want to bask in your darkness,
drink the ebony night from goblets of
the coal we walk on.
i want to swallow bits of midnight
that come alive within ourselves and
escape through the raven clouds to tell
our love story.
be my angel of darkness.

i cried him a storm of rose petals, the soft leaves blinding him as the thorns press into his sides, he can't see them, he can't feel them, he can't see that i am a violent battlefield, a fallen angel disguised as a soldier, my love is a pile of grenades and the pins are already pulled, and the whole thing will blow up in his face long before he has the chance to pick another rose.

our love is soft on the outside, the color of ballet slippers and the taste of buttercream frosting but when you get past the surface you see our love is hard, solid. we are just a couple of slightly damaged people who haven't felt the sun on their faces in so **** long; they crave the validation, they crave the love hidden between the other's lips, their desire surpasses just that-- it is no longer a want, a desire. our love is a need.

he has used a needle and thread to stitch his name into the blood running through my very body, filled my lungs with only his voice so i often forget how to breathe when he is not with me. i know i have become too reliant, too dependent on his velvet words but i can't stop now, can't back out, and the rose petals are falling from my eyes.
-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

in a red dress i kissed him
yes, on the lips i touched mine to his
and oh god did sparks fly
and oh god did those embers fall to our
feet and
start a fire that will not
can not die and
my scarlet dress still smells like smoke,
his residual fingers still touching me all over
and he is, and forever will be
my everything,
my North, South, East, and West,
my ocean and my stars and
every grain of sand on the beach
and never will i ever
ever
let him go.

silly boy,
you were there for her through everything.
through the breakup, through the boys,
through her consuming void.
you consoled her, called her beautiful, was a friend
when the world and everyone else had turned their backs.
but now you want more.
silly boy,
don't get greedy.
she is a loose cannon, a feather floating in the wind.
she cannot be tied down, so
don't try.
silly boy,
i know you're hurting.
you're in need of somebody to love.
silly boy,
she can't fall in love with you
when she hasn't fallen in love with her self first.

my pen threw up ink on the first word i wrote,
an ugly mark smeared
halfway down the thick, cream-colored page.
looking at that inkblot i heard
a reflection of myself,
identified as that smudge for
one reason or another,
maybe the fact that
my entire identity as a whole is
based off of others interpretations of me
or the fact that
i am always a mess;
when people look at my life from a birds-eye view
i am a figure only barely discernible
from the chaos
or maybe because
people only use me as a fun party trick,
like a horoscope, an arguing matter,
a novelty,
something that’s thrown away
and tossed aside
when its duty has already
been performed.
whatever the reason,
i think i am beautiful among the madness,
despite whatever it is you see
when you look at me.

falling for you was like blinking;
close my eyes for a split second
and i miss it,
but suddenly my eyes are open again
and the world's a little brighter,
heart's a little warmer knowing there's somebody out there--
not just somebody, you--
that actually gives a **** about what i have to say
and the way i think
and how i love
and everything or anyone that's ever hurt me.
don't blink-- i don't want to miss it

baby you are once in a lifetime.
-a.c.b

i'm in need of some love,
heart's in disrepair.
beyond tired of hearing people
say they'll always be there.
even when my tears
are trailing mascara down my face
they still turn away,
leaving nothing but a trace
of who they used to be,
yet another ghost of my past.
when they choose moments to comfort me
the moment i needed it was already gone fast.
how dare they take everything
when they give nothing,
empty promises, half truths
always forgetting lines--they're bluffing.
i have so much
love to give, to receive
how dare they take everything,
all i gave them, and leave?
how dare they leave me behind;
i was the flashlight during their darkest moment,
the unconditional love and guidance i gave--
my utmost bestowment.
i shouldn't be surprised,
i was simply a warm home when they were hungry and cold
well now i'm watching the story
of my betrayal unfold.
i'm in need of some love,
heart's in disrepair.
don't tell me you're gonna stay
if you won't actually "always be there."

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

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

he says we're all made of stars
and sitting there, meeting your eye
i could not agree more
because i have never,
not ever
seen anyone shine as bright as you.
-a.c.b

it's just that sometimes when your name shows up on my phone
i get too excited
and whenever i think of the word blue
i think of your eyes
and whenever i read those dumb paragraphs on instagram
i firstly think of you
and so i guess i'm over you in a way that means
i'm so
totally
not.

she's afraid to get close.
she's afraid he'll soothe her,
become her favorite forever
and consistent always,
afraid he'll make her feel like
she isn't broken.
she's afriad of the inevitability of it all.
she's afraid he'll back out,
leave,
make the Great Escape during her darkest hour.
she's afraid she'll become too dependent,
too addicted to his
natural chemical happiness
(not the kind she takes with water every morning),
his ability to calm her storm.
she's afraid that she'll forget what it's like to be alone,
so when, finally,
she is left alone with only her shadow,
she will only remember that Sunshine Boy
and, how, with him gone,
he took her only source of brightness.
she's afraid to get close...
they all end up leaving anyway.

i’m a poet, so
of course you think
my pain is beautiful.  
when compared
to a bleeding rose
what isn’t?
-a.c.b

the universe's tendency to fall apart,
but you are my universe
...so i guess it makes sense.

he is sitting three feet away from me
and i can feel his hand rattling the table
as he spins another masterpiece.
he is concentrated,
as am i,
and i know he is stealing glances at
the way my pencil scratches furiously across this page.
i am mesmerized
by the way his hair falls across his face as
he lets his heart do the drawing.
with that slight frown on his face i can't
help but wonder how anyone could leave that boy alone?
darling,
i know, together
we would be even more beautiful than
the art we both create.

he told me that my voice sounded like the chiming of church bells,
hauntingly beautiful and sure.
he told me that i tasted like the skin of a grapefruit,
sweet then sour
not long before i became tough.
i never knew what to make of that.
he told me that i felt like a rose petal,
soft and delicate
fragile enough to rip with the twisting of fingers
but strong enough to make it through the storm.
and through everything
i thought it was love,
i thought he took my breath away
but really i was suffocating on his empty words.
what i never told him
but will now,
is that
church bells scare me
i hate grapefruit
and i am stronger than a flower,
strong enough to survive the storm
that was him.

yes, loving you
was a mistake but
never has guilt tasted so good
until
"hello" was painted across your lips.

the first time i heard the words
"greater than the sum of its parts"
my mind drifted to you, of course
because of your shattered soul and misplaced mind
always too much or not enough
of everything.
but soon the branches starting
tap tap tapping
at my window, owls waking me up
to whisper your secrets in my ears.
the first time you looked at me with your cerulean eyes
and made me a promise you soon broke,
i eagerly forgave you,
for i could not resist the sugar trickling off your words.
then it happened a second time, a third
a fourth
a fifth
and now, i can't remember what it's like for you to
actually make promises you'll keep.
the owls visited me last night and
with their words, it was the first time i thought that
maybe your whole is
less than the sum of your parts.

where were you.