i wish i could be with you
not necessarily for the celebration
but for the beautiful fireworks

the sparks

admiring you

admiring them

but instead i am admiring you
from afar
and the sparks fly between us through text message.

next year i'll be with you my love,
next year will be our year.

A.B

you kissed me with your cigarette breath
and i'm still trying to filter it out of my head
it's not that i want forget
it's just that i can't help wanting it
oh so bad
again.

come kiss me in my tangled sheets
on the sidewalk
on the docks

on my lips
please?

i thought our love was meant for movie screens
i thought our love was worth writing 185 poems about you
i thought our love was made for park benches
and 12 am subway rides
and 4 am conversations

but i've realized there was one thing it wasn't meant for

it wasn't meant to last.

in my backyard
are the flowers you bought me ,
my mother planted them there

i haven't been outside lately
but she says they aren't doing so well.

neither are we,

are we?
my love?
lover?

She says
"if you've loved me for 3 years now
you're probably not overreacting"
but every time i see her lips
on his
i know i shouldn't feel like thisanymore

its been over for years now
and i still love her like the first day we met
in our art class
in high school
and now im graduating but i don't want to let go of the hallways
where we held hands
i don't want to let go of the art room
where i got a first glance
at the girl
I've loved for 3 years now

She says I'm not 'over reacting'
Then why do I still write poems about her
Why do I still try to have her when she has given her all to someone who is not me
When I don't have a chance
Why can't I just let go

I'll still call her my snowflake,
Because she said okay.
I'm everything but.

I made a vision board
in CBT therapy
four years ago

I pasted a Keaton Henson quote
“I think a lot  of art is trying to make someone love you”
on my board

I just thought it was a nice quote

My therapist then proceeded to tell me
not to create for anyone else
but myself.

I proceeded to not listen.

I’m still writing poems about you
I’m still drawing your hands
I’m still in love
and we haven’t talked in years.

i wrote a book
about the way i loved her
like i've never loved anyone before.

she wrote me a text ,
about how she loved him.
i don't have her anymore.