It sometimes hurts.
When the words
are ridicules
masquerading as
funny jokes that
I'm too sensitive about.

But that's okay,
because I like to think
that the people who
"care too much"
are the ones
making history.

She caught a glimpse of him,
her senses paused
Her heart starting beating so loud,
it muted the world.

I wish
Oh, I wish
I knew how to help you

i have known you for years
and when i say years
i mean it feels
like eternities

i mean the sketches i have
tucked away in an old journal
feel like they were formed
in mountain ridges

i think the edges
of our friendship
are tucked away in the corners
of your favorite jacket

and are protected

from the harsh winds

of chance

i like looking through old
yearbooks
and of all the students throughout
history
never have i found one
like you

you are unique to those
who know you
and to those who don't

and yet those that don't
can't see how

your eyes
lower when you smile
but even
nightfall
couldn't dull their shine

your hands
grip
a sketchbook-
your child, i presume

your face
lights up
and becomes an autumn
sunset
when you remember
that thing you meant to say

but wait-

never mind

you calculated our reactions
and though i insist
you do not budge

but the
mischievous glint
remains

and i must ask

am i allowed...

is it okay if...

would you mind if i...

but i cannot
say

how being near you
overwhelms me
with this energy

perhaps

the warmth
will burn me
from the inside

and

perhaps

you will flash me
that smirk

and i will melt?

am melting?

have been melting?

i cannot explain except
that you are the reddish-gold
of crisp
air

you are
the
bubble
of
chills
in the crook
of my neck

i see you
in dreams

you don't act
like you would

but i know
it's you

i do not stand
a chance with you

i cannot
breathe
my heart
to you

i am afraid

you are

too

perfect

~

although

you

cannot

see

it

i told him i could drive him home
after his safety was threatened
by the enter key.

he graciously thanked me
and curled into himself
the whole way home.

that evening, i asked him
if i had made the wrong choice
by smiling at him before school

all he said was no,
and that he appreciated my help
but that he was numb

today he asked me if i could
drive him home from school
next week

the quiver of his spacebar
was apparent to me even
without the barrier of speech,

his hesitance before
he touched the enter key
solidified the situation.

the enter key has hurt him
more than it has saved him
and i'll be honest with you

he is afraid to touch more
than just a key on the keyboard
he told me on the drive home

that he doesn't know affection
from inflection, that he recoils
at a handshake or hug

and honestly i don't blame him.
there are so many kinds of neglect
that even i can't name them all

but for someone who has been
left hanging in the dirt while the others
dance around them in circles

to simply accept how the world works
is absurd and unlikely. all of us
have our damages and we have all

been hurt by a touch.

so at the touch of an enter key
i tell him she lied to him
and he is, in fact, wonderful.