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

He's cute.
His soul is beautiful, despite every imperfection, forcing me to crave the moments he opens up and takes me into it.

He has gorgeous brown eyes.
Under a layer of determination, arrogance and confidence, his eyes tell the story of rejection and self doubt. They are strong. They tell a story.

Messy hair, don’t care.
I’ve never known someone who could care less and seem so beautiful for it. Captivation without trying shows the true person.

His hands are strong.**
Yet for every twisted weakness within, I can melt in his arms. I wish I could stay there forever.

this silver bracelet adorns my wrist.
pure, unyielding, unbreakable, inseparable.

this bracelet is semi-opaque.
transparent.

this bracelet is only visible by you and me.
personal.

this bracelet was a gift for just another day.
priceless, special, personal.

this bracelet is laced with gold veins.
intricate, unique.

this bracelet cannot be removed.
forever bound.

this bracelet would never be removed.**
forever cherished.

I fell

[through hugs and kisses,
arguments,
Italian takeout,
suits and dresses,
texts at 2 am,
summer karaoke nights,
missed curfews,
coffee,
****** movies,
classic '70s songs,
stairs,
health food and vegetables,
fights,
antagonism,
test scores,
spaceships,
and happiness]

in love.

When we first met, I didn’t think we’d be friends,
but a year later, I couldn’t imagine us being apart.

Sometimes I still wonder if you remember the day we went prom dress shopping together,
in the crisp Florida heat,
and the next night, telling me you’d gotten a new love interest,
a 500 ml purple bottle of Robitussin cough syrup.

I know I’ll still miss you when I take my prom pictures next week,
right in the color you always said made my wavy black hair look best,
or when I keep getting the Google notifications that you signed me up for,
the ones about Olaf and the Frozen cast going to Broadway.

Remember the nights we spent gossiping about the hotties of Pretty Little Liars?
Or the late night sing-a-long pizza parties,
long discussions surrounding your cute Colombian boy,
how you always swore marry in rich to a successful business man.

I don’t know what I was waiting for from you.
After you half-consciously walked out of the room, opened the window to look back in,
just to hurt me, to see the wall that had sprung up between us,
the one you’d always blamed on me, but that we both remember you building yourself.

But from what I’ll always remember,
you were the slippery eel, the leech, in the strength and weakness of my life,
who ****** on my happiness to fill your own open voids and problems,

dragged me away from m life and my friends, to fill your place yourself,
bulldoze me out of my own life, my own home and place.

So, dear eel, continue on.
Swim through and far away,
from the lake, that still yet remains in my memory.

Tonight we don’t cry, but we’ll laugh.
Laugh when we should cry,
for tonight is our last.

Forget all the space between us,
the awkward hand holding,
the make believe, the pretend of maturity,

tonight we don’t care about all the people watching us kiss,

we’ve only been together for seven months,
but tonight feels like our infinitiest anniversary,

tonight we’ll be known to be together,
never apart,

two hands, gone from awkward
brushes to full on clutches,

immature winks to mature blushes,

soft lip grazes to kisses causing full rushes,

true love developed from innocent crushes.

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.

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.

“That’ll be $58.16”

The delivery man waited patiently,
      hands outstretched for our money,
but tonight, the only other thing we
      had was our young love.

Tonight was magic.

Broken fingers,
      Fortune cookies,
You in your sky blue Dr. Seuss shirt,

      and me shivering in the
sub-zero space between the
hotel lobby and your heart.

But no, tonight we were sophisticated.

Tonight was love.

Nerdy couples,
      a fake dance floor,
no room for any of us,
      let alone our love;

me teaching you how to Wobble,
you falling all over the place,

but I still remember the way you
smiled at me.

Tonight was serenity.

Long lines to get water,
      aching feet,
            glitzy strobe lights,
                  cheesy music,

John Legend,
All of Me, of course.

Room keys that got us nowhere,
except maybe my heart,

and phones that died all too quickly,
just like the night did.

Tonight we were rebellion.

We danced all night,
      rushing blood in shaky palms,

Not Coke,
but Dr. Pepper in our cups,

it was just you and me, in
this dizzy world of
      hot pink and aqua blue disco lights,

I knew that if I fell, you would catch me,

      and no matter how strong I felt,
you still pulled me in
      and held me close,

because tonight we didn't care what others thought.

Tonight we were together.

Hands and hearts entwined like leaves on a bush,
      young, awkward, naive brushes,

the classic teen nerd couple.

Just for the night at least.

Because even if you could hold me in your hands,
I’d never be the one in your heart.

To the boy with the bad eyebrows,
you were everything I wasn't allowed.
But I didn't like you,
I liked the feeling of liking you.

To the boy who Bollywood dances so well,
We would be so stereotypical,
Indian with Indian,
yet somehow we never came upon eachother.
We should be friends.

To the boy who salutes,
you were the first real one,
and I don’t know if I wanted it,
but it was unexpected.
It just wasn't meant to happen,
but I don't want you to ever leave.
There will always be something here,
I'll always draw to you.

To the boy who made me famous as his rival,
we would be so perfect together.
I've never liked someone as much as you.
Take a jump with me,
I'm sure we would make it beautiful.

To the Venezuelan boy who gave good hugs,
summer flings can't get any better.
We both knew that wouldn't last,
but it was good while it did.

To the boy who's the lion to my inner tiger,
We're almost the same,
and this could've worked,
but I pushed myself into it half-heartedly;
this is for her, not for me.
It just wasn't right.

deep brown eyes glide over curves, rolls, edges,

while shaky hands pull back strands of glistening black yarn protecting her thoughts and ideas, allowing flowers to burst forth from her eyes the size of sunflowers,

and his shaky hands trace over unseen scars, the translucent ones only he can see as he eyes her heart and pulls out the broken chords,

only he can hear the mournful song that escapes her lips at night when she is alone by her windowsill, darkness encapsulating her, holding her, suffocating her.

he says he loves her,

but that which she believes is false, she knows not if she is to believe this too, despite the soft comforting feel of his bare shoulders to rest and stabilize,

she doubts him. he shakes in awe of her, in admiration of her,

but she has still to allow him to be a part of her too.

I can hear his heartbeat beating next to me
Thump-de-thump-de-thump-de-thump
It’s like a drum
Beating to the rhythm of life

I was 13 when I found him.

He was strong
The way he used to stand next to me
Towering, but not quite
He was a tree
A figure of authority
Show of power, confidence, poise

We weren’t the same
Everyone dubbed us ‘the couple’
He was the popular nerd
Always knew the answers to everything
Strong opinions
While I was…well
I was the wallflower
Sheltered and supported by his strong and tall roots

We were young love
A relationship built entirely on chocolate and flirting
The way you could weave your words around me
Like a warm fleece blanket
In the glistening snow
Around the hearth
His arms wrapped strongly around me
Holding me in, but never letting me fall

My hands fit perfectly in his
Always
Like puzzle pieces
Little nooks and niches resting in each other
At the end of a long day

And his eyes
They spoke of the ocean
Waves crashing back onto shore
Coming back to me every time
A clash
The way my chocolate eyes met his candy ones
And I knew that everything would be all right

I want to fall in love with
kisses in the morning, and
cuddling at night;

baking cookies on Saturday afternoons,
where I get to find flour in my hair at night;

singing new music in the car,
discussing politics over dinner.

I want to fall in love with
deep eyes, soft lips, strong arms;

movie nights, karaoke, open mics,
slow dancing, fancy dinners;

goofy inside jokes,
relentless teasing,
and a bit of friendly competition.

I want to fall in love with
outdoors summer adventures,
bright city lights over the holidays;

long walks on the beach,
nights spent under the stars.

I want to fall in love with
acceptance, tolerance, unyielding love;

forever and always,
you.

he holds you tight and you know you won’t fall, for you are riding the roller coaster, climbing the hill, taking the plunge, strapped to a moving piece of metal, stricken with fear, but feeling him kiss your neck over and over again in real time, you’re frozen, your hands can’t move but they want to scream, flying through time and space, you forget to laugh and look into his eyes and see the years of tears rolling down his cheeks knowing that you won’t ever be the cause of them and enjoy the moment but you don’t manage to feel free from the burden of what they expect for you and the way they pry into the deepest trickle of what you feel for him and somewhere along the way while you lose the feeling in your fingers to grab his and never let go you hear him laugh and feel his cheek glide next to yours, like the wind around is pushing you together and it’s ******* beautiful the way his heartbeat jumps with yours over the glistening lake, falls down the hill, takes the plunge, the ride is the reason your lips forgot how to kiss him but he is the reason you forgot to breathe.

I’ve never been so passionately in love with somebody who I had no chance with
to love and chase into the unknown where you’re standing in the middle of the darkness
but i know that i want the feeling of your strong hands around my waist, pulling me in
and i crave to feel the back of your neck where those girls in the movies hold on to their heroes
and even if you won’t be my prince i want to know how it would feel if you swept me away on the brink of your love
and i yearn for the feeling of your soft lips drawing out my last breath
and the steady beat of your heart pulling my eyes into your smile
and forever i’ll know how it feels to love you
this mad crazy passionate rush
like they always teach us not to turn to drugs for a high but you’re my own personal type of *******
and i yearn to know how it feels for you to pull me close and never let me go
but over all i crave to know how it would feel for you to love me forever

dear crush,

i hate my ability to imagine what together would be like with you and not have it now

but i know i love your eyes when you like something

and everytime you say you heard a pickup line and wanted to use it on someone i wanted you to use it on me

i love that you don’t get mad if i know something you don’t

but that there’ll always be a competitive edge in you with me

i love laying down and watching bollywood movies, thinking it could be us

and i hate thinking that i might not mean anything to you at all

i love the stories i hear about you talking about me

i hate my lack of courage to say something to you

i love to imagine what forever would be like with you

With my head on your chest, ear pressed to your racing heartbeat

Hands intertwined like vines in a windy vineyard

Steady arms held still

Pulling me closer, tighter, never letting go

Rise and fall of excited yet slow deep breaths against the steady light fall of the moving fantasy stories on the wall

Caught and tangled as one

1. Worrying about that smart girl flirting with you, or the pretty girl dancing with you, worrying you would never like me more than them.

2. Thinking I'd never be smart, pretty, or flirty enough for you.

3. Knowing you just don't care about me, no matter how much I care about you.

4. Being so happy that I can't imagine sadness because nobody ever makes my heart glow like you do.

5. Heart-break, not because you did anything, but because I realized I was an idiot.

6. Falling for someone but still winding my heart up on you.

7. Humiliation, for breaking my trust the way you broke everything else.

8. Realizing I was wrong, for not listening to what everyone else told me about you.

9. Wondering how so much could have been different if nothing had happened with us.

10. Questioning if I'd ever redo or change something that happened with us, from the joyful memories to the tears.

11*. Falling in love with you and knowing I'd lost myself forever.

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.

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.

She pulled out the dagger in my back and stuck it in your heart,

if you would bleed tears for when she did,

she’d carve hearts in my skin, leave scars in the same lips that kiss you at night and say, I love you

my love she’ll let me leave drops of hurt in the palm of your hand,

let me pour out my soul to throw this same crumpled up ball of paper against the wall when she comes plowing

into my life again but hearts’ll rebound was that paper ball falls back to me, and our demons

are only frightening so long as we have no protection

to fight them and as long as I am sheltered with you she can’t touch us.

And maybe
I like the sound of rain
at night

because it means

I’m not the only one crying.

the love of my life is absolutely perfect,

yet just a little jealous of a teddy bear:
we hug the same way, and he’s so much better,

just be with him

even though it can’t happen now.
he always says how i’m perfect,

even if i know he's always just

echoing my thoughts about him.

how much he wants to sit, talk, laugh,
cuddle,
love, live.

pulling me closer, never letting me go,

he took away the steel blanket that my demons
had shrouded me with,

refuses to let me cry, shake with fear,

or fade into my own random obscurity.

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.”