no one ever warns you that love is so painful.
heartbreak? car crash?
i couldn't tell the difference.
did i fall in love, or off a cliff?
both seem equally pleasant.
looking back, i'm not sure if you were kissing me or cursing me.
                                                                                                               (i'm sure you meant me no harm)

your voice, your smell, your smile;
these are all things I will never forget,
locked in a gilded display case in my mind until I die.

l-o-v-e is a four letter word i only barely learned to pronounce before my tongue and heart were ripped from my chest and open mouth.
i now sit in silence.
i wish that i could speak again, so that i may curse the universe for this torment.

slowly, i forget what my heartbeat sounded like,
how it felt to love.

i want to exchange this keyboard for you
instead of hitting keys and making spaces
my hands should hit all right places
instead of looking at letters across the screen
stare at your eyes and read you like a poem
instead of sending messages across miles of cables
my words would slip of the tongue and soak into yours

i want you here next to me
so i can stop writing prose through my fingertips
and use them to caress your face
so i can stop wrapping words in poetry
and wrap your body in kisses
so i can stop thinking of sexetry
and use my mind in ways that bring you ecstasy

i'm sick of writing poetry for you
so come here and let’s drop the words
line breaks and punctuation
let’s stop writing for each other
and let ourselves carry the message

let's stop writing poetry
and live it instead

I want to tell you that I miss you like every friend I have ever lost.
The wind mocks me, knocking me off my feet just to try and replicate how you used to make me feel.
Every single thing reminds me of you.

The stars are not poetic, they're dead.
You said to find poetry in everything that leaves,
but you never understood why I tattooed the names of everyone who has ever taken their lives too soon on my wrists.

I yearn to be a museum,
to be every prayer you never said.
There is no religion that worships your smile, so I am an atheist.

Whispers flood my ears, telling me to stop poking holes through my skin.
To stop finding solace in pain, in the beauty that comes after it.
I want to whisper back that every rose has it's thorn,
but I really hate that song.

I sometimes wonder if all of our plans will stay intact,
if you will still come to me in the summer, when the water is half-warm
and my nerves are on fire, waiting.

I hope so.

I've never been good enough for anything except illegal things,
I want to stop relying on synthetic euphoria to keep breathing.
I want to stop but I can't.
I just want to rely on you.

You're so far away.