you've got me sitting
alone
in my room
listening to the music you like
trying to figure you out
trying to decide if you like me
if you want me

my mother says
"he probably doesn't know either"

and i'm frustrated
because someone has to
someone has to understand
and i don't
and i have to
i have to understand
you're a puzzle i can't solve
is this something i'm doing to myself?
nothing is as analytical as i need it to be
your tones of gray are confusing me
and i can't find a way to organize
the things you say to me

but to say i don't enjoy the task
would be a lie
because it does, in fact,
make me feel alive
i want you to want me,
that's very true
but it won't be easy
to convince me
that it's okay to want you

i bite my nails
and i bite my lips

my room is a mess
and i pick at dead skin

i look in the mirror when i
first wake up
and right before bed

i fall too hard
and i bruise too easily

and i write about boys
who will never love me

pink hearts and red flowers are easily handled
movie tickets and sun exposure
in the name of seeing one another
for a little bit longer

dinner dates and meeting my mother
holding each other for hour upon hour
under the impression that things
might be okay

and my ribcage is disappearing
underneath layers and layers of good intention
and i can feel the masks withering and cracking
and i am scared

as i stand, naked, before a full length mirror
i look at myself in confusion
and i desperately search for why
in every crease and line
throughout every dimple and bone
in between the spider veins and stretch marks
pale skin and scars
this isn't beauty

as i lay, naked, in the warmth of your arms
i look at you with sincerity
and i calmly understand why
in every crease and line
throughout every dimple and bone
in between your blonde hair and blue eyes
pale skin and scars
this is beauty

you like your coffee black
with two ice cubes
in the red mug you keep
in the cabinet next to the stove

and you like your eggs scrambled
with salt and pepper
with 4 slices of bacon
and you won't eat breakfast
after ten thirty

and the reason I wake
hours before you
and spend thirty minutes
making you breakfast

is to be the first person
to see your blue eyes
reflect the sunlight
that shines through
the half closed blinds

it's impossible to not want to be kissing you every second that i'm with you
but i also love hearing your voice and your stories (good and bad)

i want to know everything about you
i want to know your mind
and the curve of your spine
better than the back of my hand
and i want to trace every line and crease of you
with the tips of my fingers
and i want to memorize your favorite things
so i can know you better
than i've known anyone else