I wanted to
give you the world
but all I have
are these
two small hands
and they
only hold so much

sometimes i wonder
if the world i live in
is one i made up in my head
that exists only for me

and if that’s true
i don’t mind
because the world i’ve created
is filled with madness
but the best madness i’ve created for myself
is you

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

What's it about?
Nothing I'm just writing
seems interesting
I guess words are enticing
they make me wonder
They can also be exciting
do you mean what you say
Are you saying I'm lying?
i think I'm in love with you
I guess words are inviting.
be mine?
No that's not what I was trying..
*but you said those sweet words
No wait why're you crying..
you were leading me on
But they were my words you were buying.

There is science to a broken heart

When the heart strings that connect the valves of your soul collapse
When the veins are full and heavy with the weight of let downs and false promises
When your bones ache the same as a near fatal injury
Know that it is not a phantom pain
Not an empty longing
For a temporary someone
You mistook as permanence
The ghosts of their skin forever
haunting with their former touch

The pain of a ruptured spirit
Is equal to that of being hit by a truck
Going full speed down the highway
Lights off
No warning signs
Is equal to the pain associated with The inability to forget
You place a do not enter sign around your heart
Next to the caution tape
Marked on your skin

The science to a broken heart
Can not be found
In an anatomical enclyopedia
But it's existence
Is not to be questioned
Heartbreak has been researched
Enscribed by historys greatest
For fitzgerald felt the blows to his being
From love that thrashed with winds and currents
A hurricane

Often the subject of their own experiments,
Writers are the scientists who study broken hearts
Words used as algorythms
Attempting to respond to
Questions we might never get an answer to
We're often left wondering
And often time its suffice

Because if we were to know why
Why the sun aches for the moon When the moon only has love for the stars
Why the theory of newton and gravity
Will never account for humans falling
Why storms are named after people

If we knew
We might not expose ourself to said research
We like the unknowingness
That science has yet to offer a conclusion to
The unknowingness that is often synonymous
With love.

I walked alone on the icy road,
And let my emotion take over me.
Crystal teardrops rolling down my face
Never seemed to stop.

So cold, so isolated.
He left me. Alone, alone.
They say: “first love is always the deepest”
And I guess that is true.