i remember thinking you were beautiful
(you have always been)

i was so in love with you back then

(and sometimes the memories are tinted with questions)

you gave me a soft white jacket and i wore it every day so i wouldn't feel alone

when you broke me i threw that necklace into the street by our corner and i regret it to this day

i think i'd still wear it if i still had it

i'm terrified of forgetting and i'm terrified of letting go because i'm terrified that this will always have been the best time of my life
and i don't want to lose it
and i don't want to lose you

i think i'll always love you a little bit

i think my life would be much better if you were still a part of it

i still daydream
about running away
and having adventures
and never growing up

do you ever wish you didn't?
do you ever wish it were simple?
i often find myself longing for something easy
something readable
but we've built ourselves from complex wood engravings
i suppose that's part of our story
and i wouldn't trade a minute of our starlight
but you have to admit
sometimes simple sounds perfect

I find a poem that reminds me of you
In all your restless moonlit spirit
Besides
A few discrepancies

I forget that the whole world does not have your laughter memorized
And that others, too, have owned the night
From their own little corners

I forget this
So I softly curse the author
For confusing the color of your eyes

I want to rewrite the lines
Of every beautiful, breathless, footstep-tempo piece of poetry
Make little corrections
So our story is never convoluted

Our nights spent alive are far too precious and important

Sometimes I forget that these are not our stories
Others, too, have owned the night
From their own little corners

wherever the future takes you
let it take you warm and safe
and may the stars fill you with light
wherever you may lay
chase every opportunity
open every door
for this world is too big, my dear,
to not see so much more.
let your future fires lead you
and leave past things behind.
i will come to you, should you call me,
and if not, i will be fine
so long as you live brightly, dear,
like you deserve to do,
i will go where I will go,
cheering for and loving you.

I close my eyes tight
Grimacing hold them shut
I bare my throat to you
And feel your disgust
I'm sorry that I'm not a person
I'm afraid I may have mislead you
That you mistake me for something I'm not
I'm not much of anything and I'm sorry
I don't have magic in my bones
I used to pretend I was made of starlight
And that the night was something I could own
But I'm secondary, you see
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
Forgive me

heavy
it sets in heavy
in my bones and chest and conscience
and i think i've spent too many nights wishing and
i think it's not fair to anyone involved
(again
suicide coils around my heart
coaxing
never ever feel alone again)

Did you know you smell like home?
I can't really describe it any other way,
It's something so you,
And sometimes I'll catch it in the air and remember nights spent in your basement and my backyard and our endless kingdom.
I wonder if it's normal to recognize scents,
Not too unlike the warm and sweet air in the kitchen where cookies are baking
Except I always feel a little bad
Because i haven't quite convinced myself it's okay to love you this much.

And do you notice
The weight that fills the silence
When i take too long to send a short reply with any simple message?
It takes a lot for me to stop
To keep a clear head
If I don't focus I might slip up and call you baby
Darling, sweet, my love

Gotta get it into my thick skull somehow
You are not my love
You are not my love
You are not my love
And you are not my home
I backspace, can't call you baby
I know, I know
It's too much
I'm sorry

my bones urge me to
reach out, reach towards you
bear an honest to god broken smile
tell you how violence lives in the back of my mind in a whisper
tell you my will is as thin as paper
dissolve slowly in your arms
but you're so far away
and i have to find a way
to do this on my own
force myself to be okay
gotta stop getting you caught up in my
messy hot glue strings

I don't know I don't know I don't know
Clawing at my head
Picking at my skin
Blood under my nails
I wish I could just know where we stand
What you think of me,  
What he thinks of me,
Does she think of me?
Do they still think of me?
In everything we are and have been,
I struggle to find my place.
*(Maybe I cannot find it
Because I have none here.)