You think I'm happy?
You think I like this?
You think I want
to never see you?
You think I don't care?
You think I don't love you?
what you think
may not be
what is true.

here is an anniversary letter
addressed to you
I think ours was last week
chances are this is past due
consider this my vow of affection
for what I write in these next 30 lines
will be my most sincere of words
even if I spoke a billion times

you are not the last thing on my mind
before I go to sleep
or the first thing
when I awake
I do not lust for you like Juliet
your Romeo I'll never be
but Romeo is dead
and I'm as happy as can be

I've loved before
and trust me it's no fun
constant musing about the future
how this one is really "the one"
it's a trial as old as
the woman who's teeth no longer function
love is love is love is...
love is much to do about nothing

and then I found you
with brown eyes and brown hair
simple as the letter k
eyes that looked but didn't stare
maybe you love me
although I hope you don't
maybe you'll think of marriage
although I hope you won't

In Conclusion
I'll bid you adieu
I am not in love with you
and that's what I love most about you

When you first pressed
your lips to mine
my eyes closed slowly,
blissfully

The taste of cigarettes
and cheap mint gum
were strong,
like your hands on my hips

And when your lips pressed
against my sun kissed cheeks,
and then my dark curly hair
I felt safe

I felt small in your arms,
I felt warm against your chest
I left loved in your presence
and I feel cold in your absence

i don’t know how someone as small as me
with bones that break at the sight of heat lightning
and heart strings that thread apart at the sound of his voice
could make anyone feel like the sun shines brighter
through kaleidoscope eyes—
you’re okay if it brings out the freckles on your face,
and you feel good, you feel alive
you say i showed you how to love in a new way,
that i taught you to be so much more okay with your tummy,
“it’s been very freeing and life is a lot better, thank you,”
but i feel like i can’t say you’re welcome
because i am a messy cliché of imperfect scraps and hypocrisy
loosely sewn together with
“you are strong you are strong you are strong,”
but i feel so weak i feel so weak i feel so weak
and i am not steady hands, they shake like
wet dogs after kiddy pool baths,
i am flower seeds that forgot how to bloom,
trapped below the surface of a garden that feels like quicksand
and i’m sorry but you don’t see all the mistakes i make,
all the words i’ve preached that look back at me
and laugh when they see
what i feel, what i think, who i am behind closed doors,
i’m sorry.
you keep hanging medals around my neck, and
they’re so heavy, and i don’t know
what to say besides i love you
when you speak words of adoration,
but please do not praise me, i am not good.

I'll walk into my home smelling like cancer and tasting like death because I don't want you. I'm selfish. I want you to break up with me. I want you to be so disgusted by my habits that it breaks you down until you realize that I'm not going to wait for you to figure out that I don't need you. I need space and you're not letting me push you away. I need you to push away from me; break me apart so that I'll at least know you aren't incapable of feeling broken. I want you to leave me so I don't have to deal with you being broken because of me. I can't do it anymore. I've broken so many people, but for some reason I can't break you. So, I need you to break me.

It demands to be felt.
It sweeps through your body
like a gut-wrenching feeling.
You know the tidal wave is coming
yet you welcome it.