When I was in 6th grade
I stepped out of the shower
Naivety prevalent in my smile
There was my family,
faces wet from crying
saying that you were leaving
you could barely speak the words
they were so big
they choked your throat
the truth
you never thought you'd have to speak
the frames of every picture; shattered
and I walked across the glass; barefooted
without a care

My mind wandered with questions;
what will it be like?
where will me, mom and sister go?
who will I go with?
who will sister go with?
where will you move to?

That summer was the strangest summer
my sister had two birthday parties
I was jealous
and at her communion
your mother refused to hug mine
a sucker punch from the world's strongest man

You came home; tried to fix things
nobody was optimistic
the fights before school
left happiness and any sense of optimism;
that a 13 year old boy should have,
in dreams

it finally sunk in
when we looked for new places to live
I was happy on the outside
(I think thats when I started to develop my think shell)
but my mind was still cluttered with questions;
will you be okay?
will we be okay?
will things be okay?
what
is
okay?

Well, to start off this awkward poem
spat clumsily from the mouth
of an equal or greater awkward guy
I’m straight edge and you’re not
you listen to trance, i listen to pop punk
opposites
but like they say, they attract
not so the case when you’re
awkward as me
BUT GIRL YOURE THE ONLY ONE
THAT CAN MAKE THE SMELL OF
CIGARETTES CLUNG TO YOUR
CLOTHES SMELL LIKE HEAVEN
THE ONLY GIRL I WOULDNT MIND
KISSING AND TASTING ASH
the stress of the day
my lips would take away
and every drunken word
that slurs from your mouth
would be poetry to my ears

I want the small of my back
to be the new home for my hands

Why can't I just let you go?
Why do I keep holding onto someone I can't have?
Why the **** do I torture myself like that?

maybe its your blonde hair
maybe it smells like strawberries
maybe it smells like some other fruit

maybe its your eyes
blue enough to drown in
blue enough to swim in

maybe its your body
and how perfectly it could fit in mine
and how cute you look
in underwear and a t-shirt
and how it maybe feels like heaven

maybe

I'm just in love with the thought
the thought of dating a girl
who is eons out of my league
and if it wasn't for these hipster glasses
I wouldn't be able to see you
wayyyyyyyy out there

but I'm sorta content with that
content with just the thought
if circumstances were different
and I lived closer
or you lived closer
or I didn't text you too much
or you didn't text me too little
that maybe
this could work

she's the kid of girl
who tries wayyyy too ******* hard to please everybody
somebody has each limb
and is pulling her in every direction

boys fight for her heart
the one she wants to win doesn't fight
she leaves herself in the open
taking shots from all angles
absorbs it and shakes it off
like it didn't even hurt

she tells me her deepest secrets
and laughs
from the shallowest part of herself

that smile could make a grown man
a man who gave up on love
weak the ******* knees
make the hardest frown
turn right upside down

the one's who say they love her
**** her up more than those who don't
she's rare
she cares
sometimes, well
most of the time she gets too stressed
and tries too hard to be the best

tear away the seams
your heart is sewn onto your sleeve
rip it off
it might hurt a bit
you might bleed
but it's temporary
unlike the hurt from the ones who "love" you
TEAR YOUR HEART OFF YOUR SLEEVE
put it BACK where it belongs
lock it up tight
let the right one in
not the one who speaks in cliches
choose the one who can look you dead in the eye
and tell you you're beautiful
without looking at your chest or ***

I pinky promise he will come around
I can't promise when
but i swear
be patient and sit back
and watch your life unfold
like opening the pages of a pop-up book

To me, the best part of summer
is driving either alone or with a friend or two
with the windows down
and your favorite punk record
about hating life or rules or love
or rules about how to live or love
and you're singing at the top of your lungs
and the wind is rustling through the car
and you don't really know where you're going
but you got a full tank of gas
and some money in your wallet
and the winter has lifted it's veil
to reveal the summer sun
all the cares are gone
the sadness has melted with the stubborn snow
and life
is good

Always in a race with the green lights
Especially when I'm driving alone
I don't like looking to the passenger side
And seeing your ghost
And imagine you dancing and singing
to the songs you played
When we held hands
and both sang out of key
I felt whole
Like the night would never end
I didn't mind my draining gas tank
Or that you skipped all the good songs
And bands you didn't know
But I loved it

I'm getting good at running red lights
Because looking to the passenger side
and seeing nothing
is getting depressing
The only time I don't run them
is when you're running your hands
Up and down my thigh
or I'm running mine through your hair
As you attempt to nap on my shoulder

I'm getting good at running reds and beating yellows
Because to me
It seems as if I don't stop
It means you'll be back in the passenger seat quicker