What I wish I had said, 
When it would have meant the most.
When we were lying there together.
So raw, so close.

If I would have just let my soul speak true, 
I wouldn't feel so terrible, 
Sleeping alone. 
I wanted to tell you,
The missing words in my mouth.
I fought and I fought,
But they just wouldn't come out.

For richer or for poor,
In sickness and in health.
You are the one.
Never anyone else.

I miss you already,
I want you even more.
These feelings are pressing,
Breaking me down to the core.

I love you. 
Oh, I love you, I do.
The missing I love you,
Way past due.
Passion deep and passion true,
My heart, my soul, 
Will be filled with you.

in the same way
that a drowning man
wants air;

violently, desperately &
without reservation.

(That is to say)

I need you.

Moving on.
I hate the phrase.
You just don't understand,
That my mind is a maze.

I'm alone and I'm scared.
I need someone to be there.
To tell me it will be okay,
After I've dreamt of you.

Do you not yet realize,
How bad it hurts
To have to get out of bed?

I don't have the luxury of wallowing in these sorrows.
I have to spend 7 hours thinking about you,
And normal high school things.
Then go home, just to think of you more.
  
You just don't understand.

Hair splitting,
Nail chipping,
Anemic and
Hungry for your affection.

Why do I do this to myself?
Why must I be addicted to the agony you inflict?
I just want a cure.
An antidote to your poison.

I've tried to forget you.
The farther I stray, the more unstable I become.
I've tried to replace you.
But my knight in shining armor hasn't come.

I'll write forever of my pain,
Things you will never read,
Things you have never read.
I don't even cross your mind.

Still,
With more and more pain,
I cannot let you go.
I cannot give up.
I'm stuck.

I like you in the morning
when you are just waking up;
still half asleep and
rough around the edges.

You can't quite remember
the person that you pretend to be
so,
(left with no other choice)
      you are the person that I love.

Slightly lost,
but full of potential.

the appropriate place
on this exam
to
explain to you the way
that my heart
stuttered in my chest
and my words retreated
when you bent over my desk,
in response to my upraised hand.

Surprised,
I found that suddenly
the only questions I had left
had little to do with History
and

Everything

to do with the way
your ***
looked in your jeans.

to define love.
You'll be baffled
bewildered & broken by the end.

The cynical ones
will laugh,
say it's dead,
overused and cliche.
Why try write what Whitman, Dickinson, Frost & Shakespeare
have already covered?

The romantic ones
will wax on for hours
describing inner & outer beauty
compared to anything that strikes their eye.
Why can't you see it's everywhere?

The hip ones
will scare you,
take a ****
& describe some detailed carnal fantasy
involving tapioca & a talking *****
named Pony.

Ask a lawyer,
they could tell you the legal definition.

Ask your parents,
they will tell you something trite about seeing it through.

Ask little kids
for an adorably wise response.

Ask a dog
as it's ******* your leg.

Ask a scientist,
they will describe the chemical reactions in the brain.

Ask a prisoner,
they will tell you it's something they miss.

But never ask a poet
to define love.
Your brain will hurt,
half your day gone
& you'll be left heart broken
by the end.

We're alone.
Really and truly.
Hey Lindsay, does this stuff make you woozy?
Don't trust anyone,
Trust me.
Look out for number one.

Pretending helps.
But you gotta be good at it.
I can fake with the best of anyone.
Hey Lindsay the ceiling is crying, look at it.

Remember,
No one can break your heart
If you bury it in the backyard.
And if they start digging,
Drop out.
Hey Lindsay, I think I might blackout.

You might get cold.
Sometimes I think I froze.
I can't feel anything these days.
Hey Lindsay, so it goes.

but it is not your fault.
You are trying your hardest to
(re)capture my attention.

And despite my slight fascination with the
curve
of
your
mouth

I still find my mind wandering through
thoughts of the last person who sat across from me
trying to conjure up a smile,

and how quickly I walked away.

I'm a shoulder to lean on,
a hand to hold;
and I'll give you warmth
if ever you're cold.

I'll lend you an ear
any time you ask it.
When your arms are full
I will hand you my basket.

But would it be fine..
I mean, would you mind?
I may need help too,
been left and I'm blue.

The ante goes up.
So will you match it?
'Cause a shoulder is weak
with no socket to catch it.