I don’t know why
I love peaches like I do,
perhaps because they're sweet
and remind me of you.
Maybe because they’re messy
and their juice gets my hands sticky,
so I don’t forget the lingering taste.
It could be because the smell
brings me back to past summers
spent with friends just peaceful,
eating peaches and spilling tea.
Peach tea, I guess.
I don’t know why
I love peaches so readily,
Perhaps because they're tender,
and bruise just as easily as me.

The sunset girls with warm smiles and sweet laughter. With ice cream, diamond earrings, diaries, romance movies under fluffy blankets, strawberry shortcake, lemonade made slightly too sour with a pink paper straw and perfect ice cubes.

The midnight girls with a wild side and messy hair. With perfect eyeliner, surprising laughs, black sketchbooks, late night ramen runs, stolen oversized sweatshirts, black cherries, fluffy socks under polished black combat boots tied in a neat little bow.

The sunrise girls with addicting voices and perfect high ponytails. With slogan t shirts, velvet scrunchies, red lip gloss, chocolate covered bananas, paintbrushes and easels, early morning hikes, coffee with creamer, foam, and probably too much sugar.

The sunshine girls with bright grins and  kind eyes. With light blushes, sweatpants, rainbow sprinkles, nails painted, flower tattoos, peaches and cream, messy bangs, sketchbooks probably covered in stickers and crop tops just short enough to tease, paired with cute bralettes.

We’re spilling secrets
like a glass of orange juice
that’s been knocked over by a careless hand,
now spreading on the table.
We’re talking
like old friends catching up
after years of not seeing each other,
but we don’t know each other.
We’re clinging to each other  
Like we’re close,
though we’re just starved of affection,
craving attention.
We’re lost in each other,
Like shooting stars wandering the universe,
not knowing where to go next,
but knowing there’s so many places to see.
We just met,
strangers that happened to connect
with a spark,
and now we’re each other’s everything.

I fell for you like rain,
fell hard and fast.
It was constant
like raindrops hitting a roof;
I fell again and again.
I couldn't stop,
but the flowers would never
fall up to the clouds,
so I was left like rain,
stuck in a beautiful
but one-sided love.
I fell for you like thunder,
loud and hard to miss.
It startled even me,
but clouds would never react
to the noise,
so I was left like thunder,
shaking and bruised,
ignored or tuned out with music
by those scared of the noise.
You fell for her like lightning,
it was bright and quick.
Over barely after it started,
but for a moment I saw
the way your laughter in love
was so dazzling.
It was almost blinding,
but not quite,
instead it lit up my life
for a split second
before leaving me in an
even darker night.

Black roses grow
where you once stood in my heart.
Their thorns rip me apart,
cover me in dripping, glistening blood,
but they're
more beautiful than you.

They hurt me with full intention to,
not like your ignorance.
They may **** me
but I don't care.
You beat me down this far already,
and now I'm way past getting up,
so I'd like to die selfishly,
more beautiful than you.

Untitled

and then a blank space.
It's stressful,
but I write anyways
because I like the feeling
of falling
into a poem,
letting it wrap me up
and take me
to stars, or
to dreams, or
to love, or just
home.
I love sitting
in the dark
with just moonlight
and the bright, white
light of the screen
to keep me company
as I pour
my feelings out
to people
I don't even know,
because somehow,
it's easier showing
my demons to
strangers, as
I don't really care
what they think of me.
after they read
my heart;
they can just
drop it where they are
and leave,
not feeling particularly
obligated to stay.

Staying up too late to read,
sneaking books and candy into class,
the sound of golden laughter ringing
with innocence and pure happiness.
I miss that.
Shopping for christmas dresses,
ending up with smiles and excitement  
more often than with dresses,
because the one had to be perfect.
I miss that.
Climbing trees and getting reprimanded,
laughing and doing it again the next day
because it was exhilarating and fun and awesome,
no matter what the teachers said.
I miss that.
Going on skiing trips,
grinning with excitement,
armed with confidence, hot chocolate,
and marshmallows, of course.
I miss that.
Sitting in a window seat,
writing poems at three AM
because the stars were inspiring and comforting
and felt like home.
I miss that
Road trips blasting music,
stopping at gas stations in the middle of nowhere
to buy gummy bears and chocolate,
riding with the windows open.
I miss that.
Taking naps in the grass,
the sun shining, and waking up warm and happy,
making flower crowns to procrastinate
going back inside again.
I miss that.
Ordering chai lattes
at cute caffés because they were delicious,
albeit overpriced, sitting by the windows
and smiling at strangers through the foggy glass.
I miss that.
Exploring cities, stores, and museums,
just kids curious about the world,
ducking into shops and a tea place,
discovering that bubble tea is amazing.
I miss that.
Smiling and laughing and loving,
none of it fake of forced,
just genuine happiness overflowing,
adding to the beauties of the world.
I miss that.
I miss being happy.