I want him.
I want his beautiful blue eyes, blazing with desire and love
his soft, full lips, tracing my entire body and taking my own lips as prisoners of war
kissing me, kissing him with everything we've got,
everything we've kept in, pouring out in this kiss
I want to trace his face with my fingertips,
from his short blonde hair gripped in my tiny hands
to his smooth cheeks and his strong jawline and cup his face in my hands
planting lovemarks on his muscular neck in a shape of a circle; our never ending sign of love
I want to whisper sweet nothings and love poems into the curves of his shoulder;
the place where his shoulder and neck meets and that little soft spot,
near his collarbone
I want to outline his chest with words of forever with my hands
sketching an imaginary pattern of hope, want and passion
taking his callused hands in my soft, velvety one
embedding little butterfly kisses in his palms,
just little shadows of them, quick and gentle,
lightly brushing my lips against his lovely hands
I want his entire self,
giving up all of me to him and him, all to me
hushed words of sweet pleasure escaping from our mouths
like little wisps of smoke, trailing over our bodies that move in perfect harmony
I want his everything,
I want nights spent under the Michigan stars, cuddling against each other
talking about all the randomness in the universe
I want to fall asleep to his steady heartbeat with blankets as our only armour
after giving myself to him, a gift of true love to which I will never regret
I want forever and eternity with him, growing up and getting married
having little blonde kids, watching them run around the house and us laughing at all their silliness
and growing old with him, looking at him each and everyday
with the ever present butterflies in my stomach
doing somersaults and flips off the high dive every time I see him,
even after 50 years together
I want to hold him on his death bed, or he holding me when my time comes
I want us to have our small eternity just like Hazel and Augustus
and our almost happy ever after because even though nothing is perfect,
our ending will be the closest to perfection as possible
I want him forever and always,
just him,
only him,
from now to eternity.

I remember sitting down on the bus
As it pulls out to leave the stop
You wave at me through the window
With a misty look in your eyes
As though you regret this, us
I tuck my hair behind my ear sheepishly
Lips still tasting of your sweet lust
I can still remember how you softly yet firmly pushed yours onto mine
My neck, burning at the red marks
That you placed there as a sign of dominance over me
I was always yours
But you was never mine

Its 9:48, and I’m still thinking about you.
9:50 and I’m still missing you. I always think about you. Your soft hands, your soft voice.

Walking through the house wondering if I made the right choice.
Sacrificing my emotions to whomever is the recipient of my hateful words.

I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU.

Losing feeling in my hands, losing thoughts within my head.

Staring at the floor because your face is a reminder of what was lost.

I should have known it was a mistake... I should have never called you…I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU.

But… as I say these words to myself I can’t help but feel I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU.

My thoughts like a maze. I’m stuck in the middle.
So scared to think of what could have been, what would have been.

9:53 and I can’t comprehend how much I loathe you…  
9:55 and… oh wait I love you.

I do not long for what once was
I do not dream of what could be
I only think about what could have been
I know these regrets will be the end of me

Precise and organized
is the place we live.
A chair, a city, a country, a world, a galaxy,
all have systems of organization.
Running like clockwork,
precise and intricate,
everything in the universe is perfect.
But I don’t understand why.

I think to myself:
Why is the universe not a messy soup?
How is everything so independent physically?
The universe was once chaotic, random, and tumultuous.
But now it is neat and calm.

We live in a tranquil era of the universe
where such a world we inhabit can exist.
This entropy has served us well.
We don’t have to worry.
Everything will be alright.

Yet as I write this war and struggle encompass our earth.
People are dying in the hands of their loved ones.
Screams, tears, shots, explosions.
These frightening realities
come from a beautiful blue marble of a planet.
Life requires just right conditions
to grow and evolve.
Yet life is the sole imperfection in this universe.