And I don't want it to be over,
because that means no more sunsets,
and I've never really liked the feeling of the sunrise,
It's too familiar.
And washes out my favorite stars,
The ones I wished on,
because I wished for you,
and all the sunrise brings is ungranted wishes,
and unfinished poetry.

I counted every single cigarette that she put out,
without smoking,
1. I thought of her favorite shade of lipstick,
how she used it to write "*******"
on the bathroom mirror.
2. I thought of safety pins,
and the ones she chained around her neck
as a reminder,
that she didn't want to remember anymore.
3. I thought of music,
how she listened to songs on repeat,
just so she wouldn't forget that they were once her favorite,
that they might still be her favorite.
4. I thought of her hoodie,
the smell of smoke stayed with it,
and she hated it.
5. I thought of the ways she wrote out her pain,
always more poetic than it really felt,
always sweeter than it seemed.
6. I thought of every dinner that she hadn't eaten in months,
every breakfast sent down the drain,
and all those midnight snacks she cried over having.
7. I thought of her funeral,
it hasn't happened yet but she says it will be beautiful,
she's planned it herself,
she isn't planning on going to it.
8. I thought of all the notes she has written to me,
signed each one with a different name,
she wants to be someone else but doesn't know who.
9. I thought of her dainty hands,
holding her black lighter,
flicking it on and off,
rhythmic, soothing almost,
but that wasn't really her,
not rhythmic or soothing.
10. This was the last one she lit,
a girl made of smoke,
but without the smoke anymore,
now she's just a girl,
and there's nothing left to count.

You’re the type that I want to be,
Poetic,
the type that talk in dainty words that always mean so much,
too much,
You have that part of you,
the black nail polish and red rose,
part of you,
that's the part I fell in love with first,
Small,
without trying,
you dress like you belong with the stars,
I bet you taste like the milky way,
Maybe,
it could be the way you talked about love,
it made me want to hold your hand,
You,
always covered in glitter,
california sun-kissed skin,
but you sounded like those “bad neighborhoods” in New York,
the ones that aren’t really that bad,
that’s where I want to be,
Spinning,
Dizzy in the parking lot,
you make me feel like eating cookie dough,
you make me feel like eating,
Music,
notes somehow surround you,
I wondered what it felt like to swallow them whole,
makes me feel like buying vinyl records,
just to feel you closer,
Lavender,
scented perfume we got from your mom,
thinking about elementary school crushes,
before we found out we couldn’t,
we did, maybe you didn’t, I did,
Sipping chocolate milk and replacing her with him in every love poem,
Her,
it was you,
I wanted it to be you,
it was never really you in the end,
Love,
the way you loved me,
best friends playing hide and seek with neighborhood kids,
Dark,
I got too close,
this time it was in the dark,
whispered apologies that I meant but you didn’t,
Change,
I did, you never did,
and oh how I waited for you,
to change I mean,
but you continued on as an unwritten love poem.
Me,
I want to be the type that can love myself,
the ways you didn’t,
the same ways I loved you,
too.