Dear baseball boy,
with hair of fire
and eyes of coal
you are the first boy I've ever loved (I still love you)
your freckles are perfect sunspots
I watch your eyes crinkle in the corner like delicate tissue paper from across the room
your smile is far too big for your face
oh but your mouth is so perfect
your jaw, sharp and angular
like that of Michelangelo's, David.
Dear football boy,
with a deep rumbling voice
a laugh like thunder booming in the clouds
my lungs coated with your scent
my heart hammers in my chest
     I cant breathe
     I cant breathe
     I cant breathe
you shine like a diamond in the California sun
and I am only a pebble
you clear hallways
you move mountains
you are the stars in the sky
the fish in the ocean
the sparkles on my Valentine (I never got to give it to you)
you are the center of my universe
you are that boy
the "it" boy
the quarterback of the varsity football team
You Are The first boy I've Ever Loved

and it goes like this:
one day you will look at me
and tell me i'm beautiful like
you always do and i will
not be able to take it anymore

i've been trying hard not to
be in love with you like i know i always
have been, because since day one
i never wanted to just ******* or lie to you
or push you away

i just
wanted
you

beautiful you, with
your quirked eyebrow and your
mother's nose and your love of
stormy afternoons and most recently
me

(i think about you all the time)
you tell me, like i don't understand
but one day you will learn that
i have written hundreds of lines of
poetry about you and i hope that they
will make you
smile

This is not my poem
Sure I sat here and wrote it down,
but its not my poem.
Yes, yes I took the time to memorise it so I could see my words reflected in the expressions on your face as I read aloud...
but its not my poem.

This is your poem
You wrote this
You wrote this with your smile
the curve of your lips wrote this
the sparkle in your eyes punctuated every line and measured every pause, perfectly.
Your lips formed every word, sounded every syllable, created the melody that echos in my head as I write YOUR poem.

The rise and fall of your chest first catches my breath, then takes it away completely. Sensibilities and caution tumble down your back like rain in a warm summer shower that falls from a star filled sky, the heavens have opened. My heavens have opened. Caution is now a distant memory, like something once heard but long forgotten, something you knew you once knew but know you no longer have to remember so while there is at least an awareness of it, its passing will not be mourned.

And there, pooled in the small of your back, nestled just above the curve of your buttocks, lies hope.

The hope that the beauty I see in you, in us, in everything since we met isn't a mirage, isnt a projection of some one sided fantasy but that its real. That its as real for you as it for me and that I'm not alone. That I'm not alone in the way I feel and the way I think and the way........ the way.....the way I love. Its hope that knowing how I feel, how much I'm in love, in love with you, the hope that hearing me say out loud the very thing that I've had to fight telling you on a daily basis hasn't scared the **** out of you the way finally admitting it to you has me.
But this isn't my poem.
This is your poem.
You wrote it
and its my gift to you.

I shouldn’t be writing to you. I promised myself, I promised myself I wouldn’t put words to paper. I promised myself that I wouldn’t translate this feeling in my chest into something that makes sense.
I blame you.
You are just too much. Everyone warned me not to get to close. Because, you are like a rose. Thorny and twisted but oh so beautiful. You are so beautiful. How did I think I could ever stand a chance? You shine like the brightest of stars, you burst with such a brilliance that wipes out everything in your path. Your smile tears down cities, and your laugh moves mountains. Flames dance in your eyes when you see how bad you destroy me, and I love it. You are wild, you are free, you are everything I want to be. You move like the wind blows under your feet and you speak like all the words in the world lay perfectly on your tongue. God I’m falling into the trap. I’ve fallen for the way you smile like everything in the world is beautiful. I’ve fallen for the color of your hair, bright and vibrant like a sunset. I’ve fallen for that glint in your eyes when you look at me, as if I am beautiful too.

In life,
I’m just a puppet

No free will
nor the ability to sing
dancing through life
totally off beat

Heart pinched and stitched
head hanging in defeat
I sullenly dance to the piano
as it’s belting notes bittersweet

The children loose their smiling eyes
as the music man sadly whispers goodbye

But I hold my place
a torn punching bag
broken, beaten, bruised, a pathetic disgrace

Eyes glossy and iridescent
staring aimlessly at the walls
mind filled with sights unpleasant

I long to have
the prettier days
of gumdrops and rainbows
honeydew and constant praise
dreaming of the sun beating down on my shining face

But now
I sway
my heart no longer light as a feather
but heavy as lead
just wanting to close my eyes
and lay down my head

Forever plastering a smile
yet praying to be dead.