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bcg poetry May 2015
Kids compare their love to the stars. Citing celestial forces in their rooftop, late night, parents-can't-hear, stolen-beer vows. They compare the way their hands combine to constellations ever present in the night sky. I trashed this misconception in the back of a Chevrolet with the married man I was with that day when he compared our love to the moon and sun and how ours was a forbidden one. There wasn't a notion of poetry in his slurred words, just a man so scared of growing old he needed the comfort of a child, to soothe his soul. You and me, you and the person I am trying to be, don't need the sun or the moon or the stars in the sky, we just need the TV set on a Tuesday night. We fell in love in the daylight, in parks down the street. We fell for each other, not the universe, that before you, had tortured me. We don't need space suits to look into each other's eyes and know that it's here, right here, on this couch where we first made love that we call home. The kids can keep their zodiac signs and universe themed metaphors because our love can't be illustrated with astrological analogies. It's complicated and messy and hurtful and hard, but loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done, right here on earth.

-bcg (we fell in love in the daylight, so what happens when the sun goes down)
bcg poetry Apr 2015
Three months ago, before we started talking regularly again, I asked you a question. You probably wouldn’t remember, it was a fleeting moment so long ago, but I remember. I remember thinking before I asked it, I remember nervously awaiting your response, I remember assuming you would respond in a joke.

But you didn’t.

You weren’t happy, and while you said it in a much more eloquent and well thought out way, I saw the sadness in your eyes.

And here we are now and I just felt like you should know that every single time I almost hung up, every single time I almost didn’t laugh off one of your cruel jokes, every single time I was one glass away from calling you and telling you to go **** yourself because you were killing me so slowly sometimes I would forget you even were. Every single time, I would stay on the call, I would laugh off the joke, I would put down the drink, because you weren’t happy and I was the one person who was never, ever okay with that and I’m still working everyday to change it.

-bcg (i asked you, but you never asked me)
bcg poetry Apr 2015
And I’ll be here
using words to convince you,
you made the wrong choice,
because I have no other way
of winning you over.

-bcg (i’m still yours even though you were never mine)
bcg poetry Apr 2015
Tell me you miss me
Tell me to stay
Tell me you wouldn’t have it any other way

Tell me that even though things are about to get real rough, it’s worth it, because you like the way I smile into my empty coffee cup

Tell me there isn’t another person in this world
that could keep you from me

Tell me we will continue to laugh at the sound of the
rain pouring down on the roof at 2am
until we fall asleep to the rhythm of the soft pitter-patter

Tell me you miss me
Tell me to stay
Tell me you wouldn’t have it any other way

-bcg (you won’t and that’s okay, a girl can still dream)
bcg poetry Mar 2015
I want to say **** it and text you because all I want to do is talk to you about everything going on in our lives, and im so close. I pull out my phone, I start the message, and then it hits me. If you had wanted to talk, you would have let me know ******* weeks ago.

-bcg (how do you choose between comfort and dignity)
bcg poetry Mar 2015
To him:
“You’re funny and you play along with my little jokes and you always respond. I ask you the questions I used to ask him and you answer them differently and you have different favorite colors and you have different embarrassing moments and you have different fears because you are different people. But asking you those questions, after listening to his answers, just feels gross. It feels cheap. You are nothing to him. You hold nothing to him. You’re vain like he never was. He had no idea what was happening, question-by-question he was falling for me, but he had no idea. He didn’t know he was falling until he had already fallen. He was real. The first real thing I knew. He was honest. He was mine.”

To you:
“I feel sick talking to him about his day, asking his favorite color, talking to him and asking him the same things. Because the thing is, I would still rather listen to you tell me about your details over and over again than learn his or any boy before.”

-bcg (i cant tell you this because im scared of the way you look at me now when i tell you how i feel)
bcg poetry Mar 2015
How did you come to the conclusion that we had no chance of making it? How did you figure that out without me? How many nights did you stay up thinking? How many friends did you consult? How many conversations did we have where you never mentioned you were solving this problem? How many conversations where I told you I loved you and you did too? How many of those conversations did we have when you already knew what the solution was and it wasn't you and me? When did you figure out we couldn't be? When?

And when did you figure out you would be okay without me? Because I would really, really appreciate it if we could go back there. To that night, that moment, that thought. And you teach me how to do the same. Because it's right about now when the pain is too much and my heart is beating too fast and I just want all this hurt to go away, when I would really ******* love to know how to be okay without you.

-bcg (teach me how to be as cold as you)
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