They told me to fall in love with someone who inspired me to write novels.  Here I am, hopelessly in love with you.  I have also heard that not all who write are sad, but all sad people write.  Happy people don't have time to write, they are too busy being happy.  Sad people, sad people have all the time to write.  I never quite understood this until you left.  Now, I carry my journal everywhere and am constantly writing as if you are reading.  I've wrote more the past two weeks than I have my entire life, and I think that speaks volumes

There is a poem
I've been trying to write
about love, but
I could never reiterate
the way my soul craves yours

So, instead I'll talk about
the way I've bit my nails
ever since I can remember

You see,
this has always been
my nervous habit,
but now,
my nails are long enough
to draw blood from your back
as you ****** into me

I remember growing up,
wondering why my mother
told me to treat my body
as a temple
After all,
everybody has a body,
what makes mine so special?

I see your body
and it is so beautiful
There is nothing I wouldn't give,
to regain my innocence,
so that I could surely
be pure
for you

The first time,
I tried to describe our love
I had flashbacks
of my last family vacation,
before the divorce
I saw my dad,
dancing with my mother,
as the sunset
over the ocean

If only I could convey
the way your lips
brush against my naked face...
I can hardly think of anything
other than your hands
around my hips
While your eyes are stuck
on all the parts of me,
I have yet learned to love,

Cliche seems to be
the only language my
hands can compose,
but,
oh, are you my someone

Tell me, what is it like being the best and worst thing to ever happen to a person?  I used to be scared to cross the street because I knew I wouldn't care to stop and look both ways.  I would leave my car unlocked late at night and get back in without checking the backseat. And the ocean scared me because I always get ahead of myself.  I knew I would swim toward the horizon until my arms gave out. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it back to shore.  Growing up, I always had the trickiest time finding my pulse in gym class because it was so **** faint.  But I swear my heartbeat has never been near as profound as it is lying next to you.

Lover, please.. it's not too late to be gentle with one another.  I know things are hard and I know we have become broken.  I know two broken people aren't supposed to save each other, but what if that's wrong?  We, better than anyone, know the maps throughout one another's body, we know just where the cracks are.  What if we are both broken for the sole reason to mend one another?  My love, let me kiss you back together... Do you not want the same?

I need you to realize that the bottom of every bottle you drink will never be filled with love. Darling, please, put the bottles down... I know it seems like it's been raining for weeks, but I promise there is sunshine coming soon.  

I hope you know every time you smile the entire room lights up.  I hope you know simply thinking of your laugh is making me smile, now.  You made a broken girl write love poems when all she thought she was cut out for was over dramatic suicide letters.  And trust me, she swore that day would never come...

One day, I hope we can stand together at the top of the tallest building; and not wonder what it feels like to hit the ground.

It's late
and I can't sleep
and I'm in a dark room
and you're fast asleep
and my heart is pounding
and my mind is racing
I close my eyes
and I see you
It's always you,
but this time,
it's her,
too
singing your favorite song that she knows oh so ******* well
at the top of her lungs
She glances over at you
I bat my eyes
open
close
open close open
close, but
nothing changes
I begin to cry
and
I feel your hands against my chest,
but your touch is different
This time, it hurts
I feel as if a tree has blown
onto my
chest
And I can't focus on the pain
because all I can see is you
now
Happy
Charming
Witty
In love
Mine.
Then, I see you a year from now
begging for my forgiveness,
for me to understand...
You say, "it's for the best"
and I die
because I've been avoiding this
ever since we met

I guess I have to accept our hands will never meet again.  Along with our lives, our heart.. Although, I don't think I can accept it.  The love you filled me with is drowning out, but a piece of hope still remains in the pit of my cold and numb soul.  That hope is the feeling of our hands intertwined.  It's the memories of those lazy days making pizzas.  It's the remembrance of the crazy ******* love we shared.  How did I become so empty, when just yesterday I had galaxies inside of me? I guess I drowned it out with all of the tears I shed... Because now there is no galaxy inside of me.  There is nothing inside me...the butterflies you gave me flew into the giant hole where my heart just was.  They died along with every desire of mine... It's amazing how a person can unknowingly take all of that.  My heart is hurting so bad. I'm not okay anymore... I can no longer pretend. God ******. He is everything to me and that love needs to explanation.

Monday 10:20 PM
I drank hot tea once you left and I guess I drank it too soon. I burned my ******* mouth.  I think that has a correlation to you leaving me.

Monday 11:00 PM
Please come back.  Please don't really leave.  You promised to always stay.

Monday 11:11 PM
Please, I'm sorry.  I'm begging for you.

Tuesday 12:04 AM
leaves voicemail sobbing

Tuesday 12:25 AM
We can work through this, please. You promised.

Tuesday 1:40 AM
Goodnight, my love. I'll love you forever.

Tuesday 6:00 AM
I hardly slept, I woke up clenching my pillow craving it to be you instead.  It wasn't.  Will it ever be you again?

Tuesday 7:17 AM
I'm not handling this too well.  I really need you.

Tuesday 12:00 PM
I'm going to try and work... I love you.

Tuesday 12:05 PM
leaves voicemail sobbing uncontrollably Work called me off.  I think that's a sign for me to cope at home.  However, I was looking forward to staying busy.

Tuesday 2:37 PM
I love you with my entire being.  Please think about this.  You're ending 9 months in one day.

Tuesday 11:00 PM (INCOMING TEXT)
I hope you're doing okay.

Tuesday 11:01 PM
I've missed you so much.  I'll be okay.

Tuesday 11:10 PM
Please tell me you love me.

Wednesday 1:30 AM
I love you, sweet dreams.

Wednesday 7:30 AM
Good morning, still little sleep.  I can't stop thinking of you.  I wish I could skip work today, I don't really know what's happening to my body right now.  

Wednesday 2:00 PM
I'm trying to hide from everyone at work.  This is really ******* hard.  It's hard to try and act okay while providing good first impressions.

Wednesday 6:00 PM
Can I come over?

Wednesday 6:40 PM
Is it too soon to see you?  Please say no.  I need you.

Wednesday 7:00 PM (INCOMING)
Yes, it's too soon.

Thursday 6:02 AM
I haven't ******* slept at all.  I need to hear your voice.  I keep listening to your voicemail's, but I only get 5 seconds in without crying.  I shouldn't have made you everything.  Now, my everything is gone and not okay.  I'm not okay.  I should have made you at least a little less of everything, so maybe I would be a little OK.  Maybe I would be able to recover that way.

Thursday 12:00 PM
I'm at work again.  It's just as hard.  You're not with me and I've hardly slept this week.  If you were with me though, I'm sure I wouldn't sleep either.  My heart has been pounding out of my chest this entire week. I can't eat either. These have been the only consistencies this week.  That and my dizziness.  I have been so ******* dizzy.  Everything is always spinning.

Let me tell you about the days I prayed to God, begging for Him to show Himself.  I plead and I plead.... "God, if you are real, make this pain go away.  Allow me to feel whole again."  Every time you leave, He's the first person I call and I feel so selfish because that's the only time I ever call.  I only need Him when you realize you don't need me and I don't like the person I am because of that.  Or how I beg my mom to drop everything just so I can lay in her bed and get ****** with her every time she asks if I'm okay. My heart is all over the floor and anytime anyone other than you tries to pick up the pieces I swear those pieces break even more.  I hate that I've become so hostile with everyone that's not you, even though everyone but you is trying to put me back together.

I've even broken all the clocks because waiting around for you is driving me up the ******* wall.  And time is the last thing I need to be angry with. I could spend every second of everyday, reliving every moment we shared together and I would still be crying out to God, asking Him to show Himself and keep these moments going.  
My love, I could never tire of you.... And I'm starting to believe that's a curse

Every moment, I wonder, what will be the last thing I ever write to you? What will be the last words of mine you choose to read?  When will I first wake up not clenching my chest and reaching for my pill bottle? What morning will you not be my first thought? What night will you not be my last thought? I can't even imagine the day ever comes for any of these things, but I do know one day you won't care to read my ****** poetry.  

I know one day, you will be busy and I won't cross your mind.  Or maybe you'll have another lover in time and she will make you believe in love all over again, so you will stop checking up on me.  She will despise me for being the first into your heart.  For being embedded onto your heart forever.  And I will despise her for having your heart when it is all I crave.

I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't use all of my wishes begging for a smaller body
I mean, prominent bones solve everything, right?
So, I began skipping meals to speed up the process
After all- my body can easily function solely with gum and low-call mints
I repeated the words, "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels," until I believed it
I lied to myself so much it became my truth
Was Sunday's family dinner more important than my concave stomach? My dagger hipbones?
The calories tighten my clothes and expand my skin
It started out nice and slow, like all good things do,
but it quickly wrapped around my fragile body and swallowed me whole
It was never enough, I was never enough, but my body had more than enough
Until my body is 6 ft under, hidden with layers of dirt, it won't be enough
*Only that would hide my poor figure better than any XL sweatshirt

I know what I have with you is real because I used to hate looking in the mirror and now it's all I ever do.  I'm always taking pictures and sending them to you without even second glancing them. I used to hate the way my stomach folded over my underwear, but now I'm always laying naked with you. I know what we have is real because I see potential in myself I never thought I could obtain.  And for the first time, my dreams are higher than my insecurities.  I know what we have is real because the pain I used to inflict on myself seems like such an obscure way to handle things, but at the time it seemed completely rational.  Now I realize how scary that is.  I know what we have is real because every time I look at you I forget every bad thing that's ever happened to me.  I forget about the time my mother took back the man who gave me a concussion.  I forget about the time whats-his-name threw me into a locker for going to see a movie with my girl friends.  I forget about the time that one guy tried to have *** with me when I was 13 and he was a senior.  I forget about how he put my hand around his **** because I refused to give him a *******.  I forget how I begged him to let me call my mom, even though I knew I'd face consequences for sneaking out with my girl friend so she could see her boyfriend. I know what I have with you is real because for the past 4 years I've thrown up 90% of my meals.  I haven't thrown up in months because I love the skin I'm in.       I know what we have together is real because I used to never think dying was a big deal.  I thought, "well, why is it a big deal? I'll be dead, there's no way I could be sad about dying."  Now, I take precautions to stay alive.  Now, I don't want to die.  I want to be alive.  I don't think bucket lists are silly anymore.  I don't think it's okay to be at random parks alone at 3 AM drugged out of my mind.  I don't think, "whatever happens to me happens."  I know what we have together is real because the second I met you was the second I regained my innocence.  The day we met was the day I began to fall back in love with myself and see who I am through your eyes, which is oh so differently than my fallacious vision.

I can't believe you still aren't ******* back yet.  And I really can't believe all these random girls are more up to date in your life than I am, when 2 weeks ago they were never in the picture.  Two weeks ago we were laying in bed smiling.  Today, you won't text me back or say "I love you too."  You say it's not about them and quite honestly, I somewhat believe you.  I believe they are good distractions and I believe you use them as such.  A pretty face can sure solve a lot- almost all but a broken heart.  And, God, I sure wish I didn't feel so lonely because I understand why you need to be distracted.  I wish I could be, too.  But attention means nothing, if not from you. And I've found that every time I try to think of dating in the future, I now have all this criteria that needs to be met.  Dark curly hair.  Tattoos, everywhere.  Guitar player. Recon Marine.  Thinks the way I gasp at everything is cute and not annoying. Always holds my hand.  Always makes me feel at home.  Not afraid to tell me when to pump the brakes.  The list goes on and on, but I think my point is clear.  You see, even now, it's still only you.  And if there is ever a time I will not crave you, it would be now.  In a room full of attractive men, my eyes would not wander off of you.  Forever swooning.  Just as I continuously promised.  My love, they say to trust your gut.  And my gut is clinging to your every word, promising you will come back.