do not read
my poems
if you will not
read me.

i jumped
from a bridge
and woke up
in the hospital.
apparently
the "DNR"
i wrote
in marker
on my chest
had washed away.
or maybe
they had washed
it away.
i left a note
and it said
"do not read"
as if
anyone
could ever
resist such
an invitation.
and all i wrote
inside was:
"what did
i tell you?"

["i love you."
that is what
*i told you.]

stop.
breathe.
slow.
leeee.

my heart races as i watch your gentle paces but everything you do seems gentle and every time i see you it's monumental because my mind moves so fast it even falls behind itself as if a thousand thoughts are moving, but with stealth, because as i see you walking by, each second seems to beckon a thousand more thoughts, leaving me a thousand times more fraught with emotions i never do process, yet in acknowledging this i have made progress, progress that will undoubtedly be undone by some internal battle that remains unwon and unlost, a stalemate between two sides fighting for the same thing, my hands stuck to my face like a magnet to a steel plate, two things uniting oppositely charged particles, as my brain continues to write this long, boring, hopeless article, understanding that as you walk away, the feeling doesn't stay... and everything.... slows..... down...... in....... the........ worst......... kind.......... of........... way............

don't.
leave.
love.
meeee.

she leaned on my shoulder once and in that
moment i knew we loved each other more
than those around us could perceive.  but that
is often the way it should be.  i think

i gave her that hoodie in an attempt
to hug her even when i'm not there. and
although i fear the world may be too cold,
i will not stop trying to keep her warm.