I.
when i look at you,
i feel a mixed reaction
as emotions collide
inside this feeble cavity we call
a chest. in general,
there are three things -
the three, most important things -
that cross my mind.
II.
butterflies. my stomach drops,
on its own personal roller coaster,
engineered by your smile.
another part of it drops because we
dance around each other, on tiptoes,
sometimes painfully. other times, we are
one, and in sync. and occasionally
we are both lost in separate worlds,
lost in thoughts and dreams.
i don't believe in prayer, but maybe
you could pray for me.
III.
desolation. loss and grief course
through tired, worn veins. already, you're
intangible. sitting right beside me,
i'm hindered by the space between us, the span of
space and infinity and this parallel universe we're
trapped inside. with time passing at snail's speed and
slipping away at jet speed, i can't
hold on. you're still here, still a concrete noun,
but you feel like an abstract dream, a haunting
memory. if you look out the window someday,
and you catch sight of the moon,
i hope it reminds you of me.
IV.
greed and begging and hope. all of it, every feeling,
encased in my thinly veiled heart. the strongest of
fortifications can't suppress my petty,
jealous words and my leveling glare. these feelings,
though unwarranted, are mine. you should be mine.
i wish my fate line crossed yours, but i'm starting to see,
trying to convince myself,
that we aren't meant and these worlds don't match. i can almost
believe it, and deep down i know it's true. i know that we can't
exist, not based on likes and dislikes when what we want,
where we want to go,
are so diverse and specific that it
(we) would never work.
V.
still, the overwhelming feeling
that sparks my reactors
is that gnawing, pleading one.
the one that i have to choke down
in an effort to make things semi-okay.
the one where i tell you everything,
and apologize, and explain my reasons
for it all. the one where i tell you i miss you,
where i tell you i will miss you,
where i say i can't imagine life without you.
the one where i confess this pathetic,
undying devotion,
even when i know this is the last
time i'll ever see you
again.
VI.
you won't ever pray for me,
or think of me when your vision
latches on to the moon. we won't ever speak
again, because that isn't how it is,
not with us.
i miss you.
don't leave.
don't go.
stay.
VII.
please, i'm begging you,
get out.
be everything you want.
do everything you need to.
and above all,
be the superstar,
the exploding supernova,
the entire galaxy
that you are.