Head to chest, heart to head
Legs intertwined, curving against the water
In the tub where
Her hair dips, and she tips her head up
To look at me

Eyelashes dark as night a sky, the spaces in between -
         the stars
Freckles across her skin.

time ticks by
time ticks by
time ticks and tacks until...

i don't recognize myself anymore.
twenty two, and so blue-
reminiscing upon my youth
wishing time would

tick and tack and turn backwards.

a year and a half spent tangled in bed sheets
a plethora of friendships flushed down the drain
it becomes so clear

that, disrespectfully,
life will go on,
with or without you,
ticking, tacking,
twisting, twirling,
waxing, waning,
tick tick ticking

away.

I saw in my mind, a mirror,
Saw everything I wasn’t
Within her.

I know you touch her lightly,
Kiss her softly, you must muse
Over how easy it is
To wrap your mind around her existence

Oh, how it broke me
To see you with
A perfect version
Of someone I could never be

With her hair brushed behind her ear,
A simple smile on her face, you used to love it
How my locks would intertwine with our lips
When you kissed me, how you couldn’t ever figure me out,
How my smile disguised multitudes

I was too much for you.  
Too much baggage
She is light, she is not a puzzle,
She rises before meridian
Synched with the rise of the sun
I was the moon,
Shadowed, waxing, waning

Never staying still.
And it ***** to say I understand,
If it were me, I would choose the one
Who was easiest to love the one
Without butterflies encircling her head
Instead of me, you wanted her,

And I will spend my life
Just trying to be okay with that.

I didn't know what to think of us
so I read and while
I wondered day and night
where I stood with you
I attempted to formulate
any idea of what we could be.

when it came to me- I wrote it down
tears and time
kisses and contemplation
i filled a notebook
with my feelings for you
that I could now admit to having.

and maybe soon I'll tell you about them,
I will have the courage to answer you honestly
when you ask me what I'm thinking about

do you think the dead envy the living
do you think they lust over the chaotic fury of youth

cause right now i am lost
twenty-one and young
drinking and crying
through snapchat filters
and "emerald exhales"
through the books on my ikea shelf
which highlight the glorious escapades
of some protagonist I can't relate to

do you think the dead envy me
as my heart breaks at the thought of a boy
who never even knew my name
when I get parking tickets or
cut my knee on gravel outside my apartment
and lie to my family saying no- I was sober.

do the dead envy the living
at their most irresponsible
their most reckless
and their most messy

am I still coveted and loved at my worst
for the simple fact That I Am Alive?

when I was little i dreamt of an Eye
it's iris-a specter
which rested upon my windowsill

I'd always try to keep my eyes open
cause every time I saw it
I'd blink it away

i used to think about this eye
on nights I couldn't sleep
I'd search the corners of my room

for the optic illusion
that watched me as I slept
did it ever go away?

or has it never left.
remaining out of my
line of sight

because now I'm grown
and I haven't seen that eye in years
but I still feel it watching.

i have been told
time and time again
that I think to much

and I want to write a poem
about how that makes me feel
but i don't know how
to organize the stanzas

when i am unable
to determine which words
are worth writing

which words will strike your heart
burn your tongue- which words
will taste like honey
but sting you like the bee

I want to write a poem
but i don't know
what to write about

because I feel unworthy of my gift
i have seen people
weave thorns into crowns of roses
with just a pen and a page

I want to write a poem
but I'm mangling my message
over and over mutilating it

until the words don't make sense
and my metaphors sound
like an example
of how to NOT write a metaphor

I want to write a poem
and I really am trying
but i'm intimidated

by those who can spit magic
in minutes
weave their struggles into art
with their ginormous vocabularies

I want to write a poem
I want to write THIS poem
I want to write anything

but how can I.
when i have nothing to say
my mind fixated on word counts
and a deadline i worry I won't be able to meet.