MY EYES ARE STILL BLOODSHOT SINCE THE DAY YOU LEFT.
AND ***** STILL BURNS AT THE BACK OF MY THROAT
FROM ALL THE FUTILE ATTEMPTS TO DROWN YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS THAT I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON.
YOU WERE MY MAP AND NOW I'M
HOPELESSLY LOST WITHOUT YOU

i hope my shadow follows you through the rooms of your house
i hope my perfume lingers in your bedsheets and my naked body lingers in your mind
i hope that when you look at your backyard, that all you can see is the red hammock that we broke
and we laughed and laughed
i hope you sit in your living room and remember when i counted the fourteen fake candles. i hope you count them and find fourteen and remember when we kissed on the floor
i hope that blonde hairs litter your possessions. i hope that you find them on your clothes, in your car, in your room, for months after i've left
i don't want to be so easy to get rid of.
i hope my voice has stained all your family photos so that all you can see when you look at them is how cute i thought you were
i hope that the sight of your empty passenger seat physically pains you and i hope that every day you feel as if something important is missing
and i hope that that something important is me  
i hope your lips burn bitter with my aftertaste and your hands grow lonely just like your friday nights without me

i want you to miss me
even if you won't

When the night comes,
Take the Armour,
Swing your mightiest sword,
Like a sudden gust of wind,
Gather in light,
Of thousand angels,
And fight the battle,
Of demons and devils.

Rising temper,
Waging battle,
Wound after wound,
Yet the victory is clear.

So say the prayer,
O' mighty soldier,
It is the strongest weapon,
For it is,
The Lord who win the battle!

I spent my time tying pink ribbons to my words hoping somebody would untether them.
Hoping someone would listen to my cherry flavored cough syrup poems.
I wandered around thinking up the type of person who might love me;
gentle, caring, soft and quiet.

Then you came along.

And you could undo any knot imaginable if you were given enough time.
You hated cherry flavored cough syrup and you didn’t understand poetry.
You spoke so fast sometimes I wondered if you even knew what you meant.
But you always listened to my rambles as if I were telling you the cure for cancer.

I went about my days wondering how I could have overlooked someone such as yourself.
It only took me twenty minutes to decide I only wanted you to listen to me talk.
I could taste vanilla on your lips and I wasn’t even kissing you.
I laid on my bedroom floor for hours on end wondering how it might feel to love someone like you.

I fell in love with you on March 10, 2013 when you laced my left skate.
You had a laugh like an early morning songbird; a benevolent smile as if it were always spring.
You kept talking nervously about your hands until I held them and you went silent.
This was the first day I ever thought about kissing you. From then on, I haven’t stopped.

You haven’t stopped knocking the wind out of me since.

You touched my thigh underneath the table and I think I knew then that I was done for.
We kissed on the ferris wheel and you tasted like vanilla wafers.
I think your name is stuck on the roof of my mouth because I haven’t shut up about you since.
(I hope it always stays there.)

You’re like the first warm days of spring after a harsh winter.
You’re so alive and it’s refreshing for me; who forgot what air tasted like.
I want to plant a garden in your heart and watch it grow peacefully.
I want to tangle myself within your vines; wrap myself within your liveliness.

But no matter how ardently I loved you, it was never enough.
There was always a misapprehension with us, a broken line, a word that threw off the entire poem.
I am not afraid of many things, but losing you frightened me to the point of madness.
I didn’t mean to shut the door in your face, I really wanted you to stay. I truly did.

You hated when I said maybe so I started saying it to every yes or no question you asked.
It was the little things that changed; you said my name like it was rotting in your mouth.
Our last kiss tasted like rubbing alcohol and I wanted to kiss you again just to remove the flavor.
I wonder what went was going through your head while I was breaking. (Where’s the glue?)

How little you notice when someone is here; how much you notice when their absence approaches.
The freckle on your right wrist, the quiet way you read a book, how you talk to yourself when you’re nervous.
You touched my hair like my mother did, but you left a deeper scar than my father ever could.
No slamming doors, just a quiet magic trick that left me wondering if you were ever here.

I didn’t want to show up on your doorstep years later in tears because I forgot to tell you... you’re breathtaking.
I forgot to tell you, the stars detonate because they’re trying to imitate your eyes when you laugh.
I forgot to tell you, your touch could heal an open wound in under thirteen seconds.
But it’s been a year and I still haven’t explained how afraid I am to love you.

We met again and your voice was deeper and your eyes were colder.
You still laughed at my jokes but it was quiet and aloof.
Is that the way she likes you best? Vague and jejune?
I never wanted to treat you like a poem; never wanted red ink to touch your stanzas.

Given the chance, I would love you all over again- and right this time.
I would catch your hair glistening in the sunlight and tell you, “you’re wondrous.”
I have spent a good portion of forever writing you into poetry.
I cannot apologize for not letting go, you’ve always been home.

Love me or not, you’ll always have arms to hold you, ears to listen to you babble, lips to kiss you foolishly.
Carry on, carry on, you’ve never been any less than extraordinary to me.
I can feel how alive you are, you’re more human than I will ever be.
(I love you only always.)

In May my heart was breaking--
  Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
  And sore it split in sleep.

And when it came November,
  I sought my heart, and sighed,
"Poor thing, do you remember?"
  "What heart was that?" it cried.

She isn’t one who will play by the rules,
She wears what she feels and not what is cool.
She escapes from the box and does what she please,
She works for her heart and not to appease.
She can’t be kept up, she needs to be free.

She will let you know what’s on her mind,
It is never old news it is one-of-a-kind.
She won’t hold her tongue or watch her tone,
But will always be herself and not just a clone.
She can’t be contained, she needs to be free.

You can watch if you want or even stare,
She’ll keep being herself and not even care.
She doesn’t need music if she wants to dance,
Don’t bother trying to stop her cause there isn’t a chance.
She won’t be controlled, she needs to be free.

If you try to hold her still she will turn and run,
Off into the distance to find her own fun.
She will find her own way when push comes to shove,
The only thing she roots herself in is love.
She won’t succumb to your pressure, she needs to be free.

Her only true home resides in her soul,
With the other spirit which makes her whole.
While they are together life could never be dim,
For he is part of her as she is part of him.
This is the way it is supposed to be, after all she was born to be free.

I hope tomorrow day,
     you ***** all the words
     you whispered to me
     the night before
     and may your heart
     be filled with definite pain
     for all the things you never did.