I've been looking through my box.
You know.
The one I use to keep my memories
So that one day, when I'm old, I can show my children.
"This is what your mother's life was.
This is who she was, once."

But see, the problem is it's filled with you.
We were so happy once.
We were so in love.
I see these pictures of us
At proms, *****, inside your car
And I see that.

There is no way these people could not have been happy together.

But things change.

I don't have any pictures of you
From after the middle of senior year.
From when we started growing
Separately.
From when we started falling out of love.
Or at least, I did.

But I have your notes
Your photos
Your movie tickets and circus stubs.

I have your photos
And we were just so happy.
We were so together.

I'm not going back to you
I don't regret what I've done
But it's just hard to understand
And hard to see that smile
Even if it is frozen in time.

You might be coming back.
Back to Texas
Back to the few connections you have in this world.
Back to me.

I haven't seen you in a year
But nothing's changed.
We have a strange (and beautiful) relationship.

You are my best friend.
No one else has ever come close
To knowing me like you do
And being as fantastic as you are.
You are what I've wished I could be, sometimes
And you are the only one I have always
Been able to believe in
To count on.
(Though you are far too ethereal for solid plans).

You are a wanderer
A traveler, a barely-there reality.
You are blue hair and ****** piercings
Ska and gin and legs that go for years.
I wouldn't be able to count the miles.

I don't keep people.
I don't plan to remember them
Or even believe I will, most of the time.
But I always remember you
And I will always keep you
No matter how far you go.

She spent half an hour in front of a mirror this morning
Trying to make herself look
Like someone else.
Trying to make herself look
Like someone she's not.
Knowing all her work would fall apart within the hour.

Knowing she would never be able to fool herself
For as long as she needed.

Don't worry.

I
Will
Get
Over
It.

Everything is temporary.
Even when it feels like it's not.

Shame.
Self-loathing.
Slovenly, slobbering sycophant.
Stupid.
Scrofulous.

Should've stopped, sedated.

Staggering self-esteem? Sometimes.
Struggling, someday successful?
Supposedly.

Short-lived, surely.

The blanket's too warm.
The water's too sweet.
I feel too empty.

My dreams are empty, too
But nevertheless, filled with something I don't like.

I don't understand my psyche.
I don't know where this stuff comes from.

I just wish it would leave
So I can be happy.

I fell asleep last night
Content in the knowledge that you were beside me.
Warm with your body
Comfortable with your arms.

I woke up this morning
From a sleep fraught with dreams.
The kind that consume you,
And make it so you aren't sure what's real.
But you were there when I woke
So I didn't really care if it was reality or illusion.

It seems I never want to leave you
Which is both strange and appealing.
In the morning I linger, too long
And every night I show up at your door.
The walk home is never disheartening, though
Because I'll always come back.

I'm not sure what this is
(Although I have an idea, but that won't be written)
But I don't think I'll think about it.
Whatever it is, it makes me happy.
Whatever it is, I just want to be with you.

All of my works are "in progress".
None of my words come out right.
My phrases are static, my endings not dramatic.
I need you to turn on my light.

It seems I only know sorrow.
Negative feelings at best.
I've not learned to write what's not said in a fight
But I don't want to give it a rest.

They say an artist must suffer.
Can only make with the pain that she feels.
But you give me no pain; I laugh in the rain.
I want you for all of my meals.

So I guess I will just have to work
And figure out how to write love.
So my words are in progress, my ends have no success
But there's nothing I'd rather write of.

Odin created us, as is par for his day.
Creator, killer, poet.
Fitting, I think.
When things get hard, Loki will tempt us
With deception, floating through the air.

You were Odin and I was Thor.
You were the giant-killer and I was the storm.
I tried to stop you with thunder
But you killed my giant.
(Thank goodness).

But I think Baldr exemplifies you more.
Norse god of light and beauty
For not only are you beautiful,
But your soul brings me light.
Together, we become the shining day.

Together, we could be greater than all the gods combined.

I thought the Shell sign was the moon.
The music on the radio, the stars.
Both burn yellow, you know.
Both are beyond my comprehension.

The curves of the highway creates mountains
For me to scale and caress.
For me to climb with ease and freedom.

The world is my ocean
And you are my vessel.
Let me sail these seven seas.

It's a delicate balance
Between clingy and distant.

It won't break my heart not to be with you tonight.
I will cry no tears, feel no pain.
But I can tell I'll think about you
And even wish you were here.

(I guess this is what normal people feel.)

I know it shouldn't matter.
I know that I'm ridiculous.
This has not been me before.
I just want to see you.

It feels strange to know that.

It seems strange to be alone
Here, without you.
Only with the dark night
And the bright screen of my computer
As companions.

My bed is far smaller than yours
But there's far too much room
Because you aren't here with me.

I shouldn't miss you like this.
I shouldn't care for you so much.

I never missed him.
When did I start missing you?

We could be heroes.
(At least, you could be mine.)
We could be something.
We could stop time.

We could be icons
For people like me.
Those who gave up.
Those who want to believe.

I think I believe in this.
I think you do too.
We could be heroes.
We could see this through.

More diagnoses.
More pills.

More reasons to
barely
exist.

(I wish I wasn't the only one broken.)

I don't want to write you any more praise.
No more verses about your lips
Pressed tight against my skin.
No words about how
Absolutely fascinated
I am by your mind.
And how I desire to know everything about you.
I want to write about something entirely different.
I don't like being so
Focused
On one person.

It would be easier if you would get out of my head.

My lungs forgets the proper rhythm for survival.
Instead I breathe in your fingers
And breathe out your tongue.
My heart forgets how to pump my blood
(Was that bumBUM, or beBEEbum?)
So you pump me instead.

My mind forgets how to think
And all that exists is you and me
And the rhythm we create.

I breathe your name as that of a deity
And look at you with stars in my eyes
For it seems you must have come from the heavens.
And if you are of the stars, I am surely of the earth.
You, light and explosions
I, soil and and photosynthesis.
I am devouring you for nutrients.

I am entranced by the tastes of our bodies mingling
The taste of you on my tongue.
The taste of me on your lips.

But I am entranced by you even more.

I hope you don't contact me.
I deleted your name
And your number
So I can forget.
I hope you did the same.

I hope you don't fall
Down those stairs you tripped over last time.
The ones that have self-loathing at the bottom
And substance abuse.

I hope you let me move on
And I don't have to make you.
Let me have hope again.
Let me believe.

I changed all my passwords
So they don't include your name.
I switched to 'single' on that website.
I'm taking down all your pictures
And putting them away.
You say you won't let me go
But I hope you will.
You deserve better than me, anyway.

The thing is, I didn't cry.
You did the exact same thing as last time
But I had my will.
I didn't even cry.

I want to struggle against your restraints.
I want you to lose control.
I want to lose control.

Force is not a ***** word.

I want you to
show
me
what
you're
made
of.

His fingers barely brush my body
It may only be atoms connecting
Molecules bonding between the two.
He uses them to read me
As if my skin is covered with Braille texts
And he's trying to find the answer to a riddle.

The ache in my brain
May be from the alcohol
Or it may be from the intensity.
Maybe too many sensations
Can cause brain cancer.

The memories play in my head
Like a silent movie.
The kind with mustache-twirling villains.
Except in this movie there is no villain
Just a man and a woman
And whiskey and a pool.

Tomorrow his sweet nothings
Will run through my head
Though they're far more than sweet
And far more than nothing.

I cannot need anything more
Than his hands.
His electricity will power my heart.
I cannot need anything more
Than his words.
His soundwaves will bring me to perfection.

I don't even have to specify
And you know what I mean
As if you read my mind.
You don't push me
But you don't fear me
And you are actually man, not boy.
You understand me
The way no one else ever has.

Just as importantly,
You want me to be happy
At the expense of your blue *****
Which I'm sure are quite prolific.
I've not been this wet in months
And you haven't even touched me.

I've written three poems in this same box
In the last five minutes.
All on the topic of your words
And your mind
And mine, in comparison.
One mimicked your style
Another, dissected your phrase.
The other, not even worth mentioning.
My words never came out right
Especially since I was comparing them to yours.
I don't know you. You are an imaginary human
On the other end of a fictional wire.
But I stumbled upon your poems
And was blinded by the flame.
My hands press the keys reluctantly
Knowing that it is fruitless
My brain has been destroyed
And I can no longer understand any sensations to transcribe.
Your skill frightens me
In that it shows me who else is out there
And how I measure up
And, as usual, I am a foot short.
I hope you never stop
Because if you continue leaking like you do
Maybe one day I can soak up a bit of your radioactive words
And gain some super powers of my own.

I let you into my safe, where I keep my heart
And gave you access to words, rare and true.
My moral compass shook, needle spinning
I guess we were near a pole.

I've shown you what I am and how bad I am at navigation
Who I am, inside. What I think.

I don't know what it means
Or I'm just not mentioning what we both know.

I just want you to know me.

I'm well aware it should be over
(unless it's just the hormones talking).
I'm not the kind of person he really wants
Other than "white" and "female".
He's not the kind of person i really want
Other than "nice".
We just fell together
Two lonely teenagers in the dark.
But every time I imagine it
(Me ending it)
I just see his face when I tried last.
That crazed look
The breaking down
The begging
That slightly disturbing dependency.
There's no way I can do that again.
Right?

I can't hold that burden.

(Can I?)

You wouldn't believe
The thrill that goes through me
When you say I'm pretty.
The tingles you summon when you touch me
Are electric enough to power the country.
By the time you walk me home
The wetness you inspire has taken control of my legs
Or lost control, I guess.
I will take whatever you feel you can give me
And what you've given so far, gives you a halo.

Shaking limbs and rumbling stomachs
Poor vision and cold toes.
These are what I have to keep me through the night.
I know not where they came from
Or why they've come for me.
They are here
As an elite task force
Created to bring malaise and confusion to their victims.

I don't know why they came
And I don't know who I am
And I don't know anything.

Forgive me.

Dear Pablo,
I see your poem, and raise you another.
For see, I too can write the saddest lines tonight.
They will not have your beauty, but they will have your phrase.
Or, a reverse of it.
For while your love has departed, I still stay.
You see, the truth is this:
He loves me, and sometimes I love him too.
He loves me desperately
In the way that a sailor clings to an unyielding buoy.
He loves me constantly
In the way of the sun in a drought.
He loves me
And sometimes I love him too.

Pablo, if your love loved you not
Why would you desire her still?
You say you love her no longer, but maybe you love her.
Why do you do this?
Why do you not realize there is surely someone else
Who will love you, too?
Why are you unwilling to see
That if she loves you not
She is not worthy?

I've been out of breath all day
Maybe I went jogging in your mind?
I don't understand pickup lines, I just miss you.

You will soon find another girl.
One who is worthy of your affections
And who doesn't tempt fate at its every turn.
A better girl, a braver girl.
And I know I will have to let you go.
I won't be able to sit with your at two a.m.
And listen to music with you
And have real conversations, which are so rare in all the others.
I won't be able to feel your fingers trace patterns in my hair.
All of you touches will be hers
And all your words will be spoken to her.
I know this
And I don't know if I'll be able to handle it when it comes
But I do know that while I have you
I will feel every minute, minutely
And try to extend every second into eternity.
Please let me.

He said to me
One needs to know where they're going in life
To know where their writing's ending will come from.
I have a vague idea of where I will go in life
(Whether or not that's where I want to go...
Is an uncomfortable question.)
But my poems always end
Unfulfilled
Unsatisfying
Abruptly.

Is that some sort of sign?

Unceremoniously awoken, too early, by nature.
Sunlight infiltrates my eyelids
Even my darkness is a warm golden tone.
My head pounds
And my stomach gurgles.
My body seems to be being punished
For the delight I take in Texan brews
But my mission was accomplished.
I am understood now
And that's all that matters.

Your three a.m. words intoxicate me
More than Jack Daniels.
Your clever phrases
And beautiful insights
Make me crave to know your soul.
You know me  more than most anyone
Though I've only known you for days
And you neither judge me nor praise me.
I'm well aware that you are what I need.
Why must you keep testing me?

i wish
i could just
have
everything

Your heart feels like rubber
When it fills
A balloon when it empties.
Your thigh has fallen against my wrist
And your hand is resting on my hip.
We sit silently
Sometimes I can feel your head
Fall into my hair.
To sniff? To feel?
Black sky surrounds us
And we are in a vortex
We are the only living beings.
Pink Floyd is playing
Softly
From somewhere in the depths
Of the cosmos.
We talk
And listen
For hours.
Far too late into the night.
But when I come home
My core is melting
And the buzz of my high won't let me hear the signal.

"DANGER!"

You use eye contact as a challenge
A stare as a dare.
Your deep,deep voice
Comes from deep,deep within.
I can feel the rumbles where they start.
You keep the conversation focused on others
Or maybe that's just me.
You know
And you see through me
In a way that makes me feel
Both empty and full
Invisible and obvious.

Is he mad at me?
He won't respond to me.
Did he read my mind
And see my questioning my fidelity?
Did I send him a message
Meant for someone else?

Why won't he talk to me?
What did I do?

I
DON'T
KNOW
WHAT
I'M
DOING

I feel so restricted
But theoretically, I'm not.
I just want
crave
desire
A few months of freedom.
To experience something else
Before I settle down for life.
I just want to be able to see
A little bit
Of the world.
I want to see someone else's world.

He needs me to be
And I know it.
He doesn't really know how to be without me.

I wonder if life would be different if he didn't.

I am drunk
On the warmth of the sun
And hot Jack Daniels.
My skin has felt the caress
Of that star's stinging rays
And my mind has become that
Softly buzzing puddle that Jack inspires.
My tan lines and liver failure
Will tell a great story to those
Who live on after me.

They will show my adoration of the mother star
And my devotion to the deity that is whiskey.

My kissed skin and pickled organs make me what I am.

ohmygodohmygodwhyismyskinmovingithinkthere'ssomethingun
deritohmy­godiseelegslegslegswhyaretherespiderlegsinmyveinsdo
esthismeanige­tsuperpowersewewewihatespidershowdidtheygetth
ereohmygodithinkthe­re'sarealspiderinthereewewewit'smovingith
inkit'stryingtogetoutoh­my-

I am but a mad girl,
And you have taken my love song!
He is real, I assure you.
But my reality,
Flawed and inarticulate,
Makes questionable my answers
Rather than answerable to my questions.
I am but a mad girl
And you have taken my voice, dear Madam,
And created a world of flame and fancy!
My love song must be less
For surely I must be less.
Please madam, pity the poor mad girl
And relinquish my soul
So that the seraph and seraphim
Can once again bring my love to fruition.

I love you now, my sweet honeybee
When your collector is full of pollen.
I'll love you then, my lovely hummingbird
When your bright, buzzing wings have fallen.

I loved you then, my dear brown buck
When your antlers were still sprouting.
I'll love you forever, my protector, my pet
Unflawed, unending, undoubting.

One sober night
And I can't remember how to interact with others
And I don't think anything's as funny as it was
And I don't think anyone's as interesting as they were.

The world loses its sparkle
And everything is made of dust, not diamonds.
I sit silently
Waiting for anything of importance to happen
But it never does.

Why would I ever stop drinking?

so beautiful
so attentive
so smart
so hairy

not worth the consequences.
he is more important. (?)

(on sober observation
he was still beautiful
and attentive
and smart
and hairy
and he still made me happy
on that warm drunken night.)

(i thought you were supposed to regret?)

sometimes it's really nice
to feel i matter
and to see that people sometimes notice me
occasionally even remember me
and maybe even want to see me again.
the alcohol helps, of course
but it still counts.

sometimes all i need
is a
really
good
night

I cannot do enough for you, my love.
Or if I can, teach me how!
I know not how to calm the fires they light
Or how to cleanse your mind of their unjust words.
I desire, I CRAVE
To bring you happiness, and protect your soul.
I was never taught how to cure this malaise.
You are so kind, so sweet, so selfless
And the world only exploits your soft heart.
You are my opposite, and I am brought to you like a magnet
But science does not bring me the answer to this problem.
They are cruel to you, they do not respect you.
They don't understand your ways or your dreams.
You deserve a far better life than you have been given
And I desperately hope that one day
I can give you the care that is worthy of you.

You probably have a name like Amber or Ashley.
You probably drive a car made in the 2000s
And like to play popular hip-hop songs on your top forty radio
You know, in that stereo he probably bought you for your birthday.
You work at a temporary job for eight bucks an hour
And during your lunch break you make plans for that night.

You are the basic suburban female
And you exist to be the bar that the rest of us judge ourselves on.
Or at least, I do.
You are prettier than most
Have more money than most
Have more friends than most
And you are the person
Who allows me to think that I can one day be at your level,
Even though it's far from true.

A  book left in my view
A possible display of affection?
Or just a coincidence.
I've written down
My secret love affair
How my soul intertwines with that author's.
How he may be dead, but he makes me feel alive.
Maybe she noticed?
Maybe it's for me?

More likely, I am once again
Pretending the world is made for me.