his eyes
perhaps like the creek
greyish-blue with bits of moss
reflections from the sky
lips like roses
pink and soft
wanting them to press into my skin
once again
like it used to be
elegant hands
one in mine
hair soft
hands running through it
caramel and gold
shining in the sun
a smile
like the sun
lighting up my life
the prettiest boy i've ever seen
inside and out

my roots are growing in ashy
i can't stop looking at my acne scars

i taste everything good in me
and lick the sin off my fingers

but no one told me that loving myself
would be this exhausting

I never liked how you
abbreviate certain terms,
omit your punctuations,
lowercase your ‘I’s.

I was raised to be scrupulous,
to spell the word as they are,
to add periods at the end of sentences,
to capitalize my pronouns.

Correcting you became a habit of mine,
I rather liked the red flush in your face,
the downward tug of your lips,
how you'd avoid my gaze.

Still, you managed to find a way,
to gain the upper hand,
with a smirk on your lips,
your careless fingers sent:

“ i luv ya ”

With the tables now turned,
a scorching heat spread on my face,
I frowned as I stared at the text,
deliberately avoiding your gaze.

You never had a way with words,
you abbreviate certain terms,
you omit your punctuations,
you lowercase your ‘I’s.

However, i rather liked how it's so very you.

Perhaps, that is why...

“ I love you too. ”

If you are afraid of the unrequited, there is a chance you might have learned it from a parent. and you were probably young; children are too impressionable. it lingered in the air and echoed through the silence when you asked your mom when you were going to see dad again. the word “unrequited” is a taste bud on the back of your tongue that will always remind you how even the sweetest things turn sour.

If you are afraid of the unrequited, you will start to type a message to your friends because the loneliness has become to heavy, but you will always be stopped by the sour taste of trying to swallow your pride.

If you are afraid of the unrequited, you might apologize for yourself every day and tell people that you wouldn’t blame them if they cut you off. maybe being alone will feel a little easier if you are certain you did something to deserve it.

If you are afraid of the unrequited, you might go out in public to make sure you are seen,

talk to yourself to know that you have a voice,

watch strangers converse to convince yourself that everybody has somebody, even you,

you might write poetry to try and teach yourself the lessons on the love that was never requited to you.