when you think about it,
nothing ends up mattering
but your thoughts
because that's all you really have
that's all anyone ever has

i can't allow myself
to be sad
when all my friends
already are.

obviously masked
standing still in the middle of a crisis
my heart remaining the same as it is
but my expressions
oh, what they're giving away
cannot be taken back

"i'd do it all over again," he repeated.
"and that's what makes me a monster."

i wonder which hurt him more
the fear in my eyes that showed
or the pity
or maybe how i said
"no, but, you're just a boy."
because i was once told
it's not what you say but how you say it.

let's play 21 questions
your questions will go from
how old are you
to
are you still a ******
my questions will go from
what's your favorite color
to
what's the worst thing you've done

both wanting to already know
if what's barely beginning
to happen yet
will be worth it

"paint on wood
paper on paint on wood
ink on paper on paint on wood
pen in hand on paper on paint on wood," she mumbled.
"like your emotions," i said. "all those crazy prepositions mixed with random nouns."