He was the only boy to care for me more than I could ever care about him.  He came into my life when I needed a shoulder to cry on the most. He believed I deserved more than I was ever given. He fell for me but I could never love him back.
2. He was the first guy to break my heart. He had a way with words and he was dangerous with them. The words from his lips came out in the most beautiful of ways with the deceiving smile to make you lose your breath. But his lips could never just land on me. After all, him and I were never a we.
3. He is the one I want but the one impossible to attain. His heart is shielded by a million brick walls and to break them down is the impossible. He makes me feel countless explainable feelings for him but he runs from any sense of affection. He's not simple and he is deep and it makes him better than any other.
4. He was my distraction. He is around to take me out when I need him. He knows how to make me feel a little better and gives good laughs. He developed feelings along the way of our countless dinners and nights spent talking about life. But I would never be his.
5. He was the one I loved. I believed he was the best thing in the world for the while we were a thing. I was only 15 and he was 18. I was too dumb to realize that an 18 year would ever want a girl my age for anything more than his brain could think of.

106

The Daisy follows soft the Sun—
And when his golden walk is done—
Sits shyly at his feet—
He—waking—finds the flower there—
Wherefore—Marauder—art thou here?
Because, Sir, love is sweet!

We are the Flower—Thou the Sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline—
We nearer steal to Thee!
Enamored of the parting West—
The peace—the flight—the Amethyst—
Night’s possibility!

Being in a large dark room with nothing but rows of emptiness was the least lonely I've felt in such a long time,
with the ends of your hair poking at my temple and my eyelashes fluttering against your cheek, I caught a glimpse of the entire world without ever setting foot outside of that room.
It probably wasn't the world you're thinking of, though.
In you, I saw streams for veins and earth for eyes and entire ecosystems in your pores.
I want to rip each of the hairs out of my head one by one because my hands don't know what else do to when you're not around
and when your fingertips lightly trace my jawline you tell me I'm the most beautiful work of art you've ever seen in your entire existence.
Your existence is such an important thing though and my brain can't wrap around how it possibly came to be considering so many flaws were thrown together so perfectly that something astonishing was created,
but what's even more astonishing is the fact that I love every bit of it and being so ******* happy is about to drive me insane (in the best way possible).

It's 3am and I can still feel
your collarbone underneath
my fingertips, I can still feel
your calloused hand in mine
and I can still taste the
***** - in my lungs and on
your lips.
I can still hear the way
your words fell together,
and I can still hear you telling me
you love me.
I can still feel your body
against mine, your fingers touching
my skin,
your voice soft in my ear.
I can still feel the way
your teeth dug into my neck,
my skin,
leaving a mark to remind me
of you while I sleep alone,
in a bed too big for just one person
in a bed too cold without your warmth
in a bed too silent without your
uninterrupted breathing
while you're sleeping.
I can't seem to sleep if
you're not holding me
and I'm still trying to decide
whether I'm too far in or if
I just can't get out -
get out of the depths of your eyes,
the warmth of your body,
the rhythm of your words.
I guess I just don't want
to leave you behind.

You remind me
of summer,
and every cigarette
I light,
holds your breath
in between my teeth.
Your body holds planets
I thought I couldn't reach
and your eyes contain
thousands of stars.
And every time I touch you,
I feel the galaxy
underneath
your skin.

"I am alone"

I repeat as I toss the last shovel of soil over the grave of my careless love.