my messages with you are turned onto mute.

i keep your messages on mute and preview every single one before i actually open it. i always take 2-3 minutes to respond.

i’m afraid if i type too fast, then my fingers will scream i love you, in the moments i mute myself on your call, its because i’m afraid i’ll suddenly blurt out “i want to marry you”, when there’s a silence when we sit on your couch and talk, and it’s never awkward, but sometimes there’s a pause and we just lock eyes, i’m afraid i’ll scream “i can envision my entire life when i’m with you.”

I feel paper thin and invisible in front of him.

but

that paper is made of 15,000 fibers, each of which are deserving of being heard and listened to, every story being another piece of fabric that’s critically important, that he so intricately seeks to pull apart.

intrigue

      w
            r
                  a
            p
      s­

me around your finger.

keeps me hanging to every word,

        name

                story

                        ­place

                                that slips out of your mouth.

trapped in

- - hugs - -

that i can only imagine but not feel.

gazing and searching for

          s t a r s

in your eyes

You pick me up at 8.

Nobody’s home, you’re dressed nicely
after a long day,

skin tight red dress.

You bring me close to your face,
put your lips to me, clasp mine in between yours,

your tongue rolls around my delicate glassy edges,
soft curves.

bright red lipstick leaves a stain.

you curl your fingers around me,
we tilt back together.

Tonight, you’re sad, lonely
looking to unwind, let go,

today’s been long, tiring, you need a distraction,

your hand trembles as you hold me, but

you won’t let go of me.

Growing up, I was never trained to love Wonder Woman,
So when everyone threw her praise,
I knew I had to connect with her on my own.

I was never taught how to love her.

In the late hours, I found comfort in an
unmade bed, curled under her arm, over the curve in
her chest, slowly moving in from her shoulders.

She was raised hiding her heartstrings behind her ribs,
carrying an iron fist,
naturally trained to always protect emotion more than herself.

Bending structures and norms in society.

We always had the same gaps, yet somehow in other ways we
fit perfectly together.

Surrounded by others, we lived in a world on our own,

arms tangled like earbuds strewn across messy notes of pristine ideas.

Instead, we spent nights eating chocolate, playing cards, the background of
cliché yet novel sitcoms drawing us closer together.

Dissecting our hearts and minds in the early hours of the morning before
putting them back together and going back to another day.

See, we're never actually taught to love the people we seek to love more.
Here, I failed to understand how to connect, how to fuse two hearts together,

how to stop something right from going terribly wrong.

when you get stuck for the first time,
they tell you to let go of whatever you’re holding on to,
spread your arms out and pull yourself to safety.

sometimes being backwards helps.
from personal experience, i can attest
to that.

and if you slip, or miss a step,
you might dangle,
but you always have something
attached to help you get back up.

and you might be somewhere and
find it a herculean task,
while someone else finds it a breeze,

you can choose how hard you make it,
and you might feel locked in,
but there’s always stability on the other side,
and who doesn’t want a bit of a challenge

there’s always someone to ask for help,
because even the best of us struggle,

and if you don’t enjoy it as much as everyone else,
you’ll have another chance at your own choice too.