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What you are feeling is not love
Love is not this envy coursing through your veins turning your skin green.
Love is the skeletons that climbed out your closet, content with being seen
It’s A Still of the best moments  
Still alive when she’s dead
Still, in a hurricane of emotions, that reside in your head

Love is not her hair, her *******, soft lips or strawberry scent
Not the contour of her body;
It's porcelain touch
Nor the way her voice fades at the end of a sentence
Instead, it’s in the absence
In the things you can’t sense, but still feel
In The parts of her that are least physical but most real

Love is not the way fears became a blindfold
That hid you from the Truth
Torn from a blanket of jealousy
Covering you up,
Keeping you bitter

Love is the tear-stains on your jacket shoulder
The warm embrace
The eye of the storm.
She kept that jacket
And Maybe
Just Maybe
She’s wrapped herself in it
And realized that:
Love is the only reason you didn’t want to leave her
And the exact reason
Why you did
Written in July of 2017
105 · Apr 24
Passenger seat canary
Jeans in 40 degrees, out to the rock wall
downpour, Shaq soda, ephemeral lyrics and a deteriorating weekend
when I'm meant to see you i may sleep in
Written in January of 2019
93 · Apr 24
Waldo & Walsh
static voices through the speaker
our monitors are beacons
guiding us through schooldays to each and every weekend
hack smoke
crack jokes
art room artifice & insubordination
I'll retrogress
Written in November of 2018
76 · Apr 24
Table top deity, piggy backing best friend
carpool in the morning, mourning in the evening
mispronounce words from every second reading
take us back to kindergarten
girly  hair
cut my crusts
imagination runs amok
yet reminiscing isn't always forgiving to you
Written in April of 2018
75 · Apr 24
Siblings parrying sincerity.
Brooklyn to Scranton to Bristol and back again
couches embrace
rewind it.
Front yard fabrication of a happy family
play pretends in the paper bark tree
squeeze my arm and ask me

are you okay con?
Written in January of 2019
75 · Apr 24
please slap me
tongue and cheek
island week
you and her mightn't speak
I wonder if you wondered
if anything could ever feel this real forever
if anything could ever be this good again
Written in February of 2019
41 · Apr 24
A few streets from laughing fits
pine wood guidance's
park land Midas's
hills consume hours
as insects do our blood
parents expect you home
but I'll stay at the lots
Written in January of 2019
35 · Apr 24
Play dumb act smart
school bus pant-less
cocktail of prank calls and parental figures
you'll push me mungo, to the brink
but it makes you grin
I hope it sticks
Written sometime in 2017
34 · Apr 24
Laundry detergent
shoe gaze averted
to the scintillating ceiling
imposer supernovas
feelings frayed like a grad dress hem
two inches became an ocean apart
complacent as I am
I flagellate again
Written December 2018

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