and it will always surprise me
that the message which broke my heart
came from my phone

1.      My mother’s mirror makes me look way better than any other mirror. I’m half convinced she put a spell on it or had it blessed to make me feel more beautiful. The way it reflects the light puts green specks in my eyes and a rosy sheen on my cheeks. It makes my hair look softer, my edges smoother. It takes away those fifteen stubborn pounds. I think, maybe, it just reflects my mother’s love.

2.      Red headed boys have it out for me. I have had my heart broken five times and four of those were by red headed boys. **** you, Ronald Weasley for igniting such an infatuation-no, obsession-at such a young age.  It seems that no matter how badly the fire burns, I always seek out another flame.

3.      The people who pass on before us are allowed to paint the sky when they feel like it is needed. Part of your welcome to heaven package is a paint brush. My papaw frequently sends me glorious sunsets and starry nights when he knows I’m feeling sad.

4.      The first time a rough boy put his hands on me, he didn’t do so in a mean way. We were young and he pretended to know what he was doing/pretended that it wasn’t wrong. The second time, he realized he now had control over me.  Though I was never forced, I was manipulated. I do not cry ****, but I still cry.

5.      Growing up Catholic taught me that *** before marriage is wrong. What if part of me thinks *** in general is wrong? What if I can’t take the *** without imaging the unwanted hands all over me? What if my mistakes have made me into an unlovable monster? What if I am too weak to say no to *** and too weak to say yes to love? What if I can fall in love or fall in ***, but never both? 

6.      My mother’s mirror makes me look way better than any other mirror. I know it is because I see my reflection the way my mother sees me: beautiful, strong, unbroken.

he says, "I want you."
but he means it in a different way.
I can't have the physical without the emotional
getting in the way.

I say, "I want you."
and it doesn't really matter.
He can't do emotions,
physical is his only factor.

Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, you shouldn't look so sad.
Your mom and daddy love you, life can't be that bad.
Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, you shouldn't look so blue.
You're pretty as a picture. More girls should look like you.
Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, I like you when you smile.
I know the distance seems so great, but we are worth every mile.
Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, the time is passing fast.
Just a few more weeks and you'll be home, in my arms at last.
Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, you go your way and I'll go mine.
I'm sorry that it didn't work out, these things happen all the time.
Chin up, says the blonde haired boy, you shouldn't look so sad.

I am allowed to hate you.
I am allowed to spit your name out of my mouth.
I am allowed to cry acid tears.
I am allowed to guard my heart.
I am allowed to not speak to you for years.
I am allowed to drink more than I should.
I am allowed to miss you, still.
But what I am not allowed to do,
what I will never be allowed to do is
think that I am not allowed to find love again.

His eyes are filled with sadness
And his voice resonates hate.
He may try to mask it, but his smile he can never fully elate.
His heart is filled with longing
And feeling he can not understand
Because he missed his childhood and quickly had to become a man.
He wasn't left quickly, but the time and pain drug on.
The man he visited in the bed was a stranger and his father was long gone.
The goodbyes were not easy and time will make them harder.
His eyes still fill with sadness when he thinks about the loss.
He usually hides the hatred behind a joke and laugh,
A pitied young man on a burdensome path.

I know you're approximately
thirteen hundred miles away
but I can't keep quiet anymore

there is something about the way
your hair curls at your neck
when you're two weeks past needing it cut

I know your hands are ***** and rough
but they would feel so perfect
wrapped with mine

your laugh can change my darkest days
into little rays of sun and
the way you make me feel
is second to none

there are many ways to say it
and many way for you to see
I guess the easiest way is
stop wasting your time not loving me.

Your heart was a princess,
locked in the highest tower.
And your ribs were razor wire,
keeping me out.

You clawed at my fingers
tracing your poisoned skin
and stole my breath
with your toxic air.

I tried to be your knight in shining armor,
fighting the dragon that was your biting tongue,
but you quickly melted my sword
and broke my heart.

I think I hear "I love you" way more often than I think, it's when he gets up in the middle of the night and brings me back a drink.
It's, "do not wake her up, yet" and "honey, go back to bed"
It's how he sits in front of me and wipes away every tear I shed.
It's how he kisses me so sweetly every morning before he leaves and returns to do the same thing every single eve. 
He cuddles up to me so neither one of us will get cold and then he starts of sentences with "so when we are old..."
I think I hear "I love you" more often than I know
It's in the little things, like him watching all my shows. 
It's when we go to eat and he picks my favorite place. 
And how he knows my mood just by looking at my face. 
I think I hear "I love you" in fact, I know I do.
I just hope he never has to wonder if I love him too.

I fumbled through the stations 
And clicked on every song
But nothing met the silence 
Where your voice did belong 

I replayed each conversation
Remembered every kiss
Hoping I would one day stop
And you I wouldn't miss

then you picked back up the music
And my heart began to dance
You always had a special way
Of putting me in a trance 

I'm screaming don't stop playing 
And spinning round and round 
I know if I'm met with silence
I'll crash upon the ground.

You have my heart, you know it
So to it, please be true 
Because it only knows one song now 
And that song is you.

You asked me once to write about you.
What would I write, though?
Words cannot capture your devilish grin
or the way your red hair shines.
Words can't tell of how you make me draw a breath
when you press your lips to mine.
Words do not begin to tell the story your eyes can with a simple glance.
Stories of regret and pain.
Stories that kept you from ever being the same.
I cannot find any words that would show the world
just how much you mean to me.
You are the moon and all the stars.
You light up my nights.
You are the sun, brightening my days.
You are every dream I have ever had
and every wish I have desperately whispered at 11:11.
You are more than any messy poem could ever convey.
Here is your poem, my darling.
I'm sorry it's not better, but the only words that even begin to explain how I feel are I love you.
I'm not sure how it happened, but I do.

I think it's always been you. 
In the back of my mind.
In the bottom of my heart.
I don't remember making it you.
I'm not sure I ever did. 
It just was. 
It just is.
And I'm afraid, it always will be.

I wanted to call and tell you I missed you.
But your voice was much too distant
and your words were the weakest thread.
I wanted you to cry that you had missed me too.
But the small talk and how you beens just beat around the truth.
I wanted to tell you I missed you,
but instead I'll just tell you,
the cold outside has snuck in
and settled in my head.

Sometimes I wonder if the messages you typed to me saying, “never leave me babe!” and “you’re my whole world” and “i’ll love you forever” have found their way into her phone.

at first,
she was just an old flame
hearing you speak her name burned through me
it burned like hot lava spewing from your lips
it burned hotter than one thousand suns
it burned me up inside.
that's the thing about old flames:
they can either burn out,
or ignite wildfires
and now I'm smoldering
I've burnt up.
the fire is out, suffocated
it cannot be rekindled.
there is no spark
there is no flame
there is only smoke
of a love lost
to a lust found

there is a difference in getting butterflies
and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach

you gave me the second

you should smile so much your cheeks hurt
not have stress headaches

i was taking 10 ibuprofen each day

the future should be exciting and full of possibilities

but with you, every coming day terrified me

i'm sorry i didn't realize earlier
how much i was hurting you
or how much you were hurting me

i'm sorry i fell out of love with you
but i'm more sorry
that i couldn't save you from yourself

I woke up this morning and I was sad.
I’m not asking you to fix that,
I’m just asking that you love me until I’m happy again.
Then stay and love me until I’m sad again.
Over.
And over.
And over again.

I think
     if you left
          I would start
               smoking again.

update:
*I did...

you are like an old book
one of my favorites
every once in a while, I need your comfort
I need to feel your creases
smell your smell
hear your words
but it always ends the same
and I know that

Because sometimes things don’t work out like they should
and people get hurt and
even when you didn’t mean it,
they walk away and you’re left by yourself
dealing with your demons and wishing they were around to tell you everything was going to be alright.


And sometimes apologies don’t change anything.
You act like things are going to get better between y'all
but the days turn into weeks and then months
and before you know it your birthday passes
without so much as a happy birthday text.


Sometimes they find someone who is more important to them than you were
and it doesn’t matter how many times you swore
you would be friends forever, you aren’t.
Even when you have no where else to turn, they aren’t there.
They say they are, but the advice they give is no longer what you need to hear,
but what they think you want to hear.


Maybe every friendship has an expiration date
or maybe I was just a foolish young girl who didn’t think about her actions
or maybe this is just how it was meant to be,
but that doesn’t make me miss you less,
it doesn’t make not talking to you easier,
time hasn’t helped yet,
I just keep hoping it does.

and pressing your lips to someone does not state your claim on them.
it just makes you another sea sick, journey torn pilgrim
happy to have something steady to hold on to for the first time
in forever.

I fell in love with your groggy voice saying,
"Don't fall asleep on me."
I fell in love with the theory of something
"more than us" and your alternate universe.
I fell in love with you singing under your breath,
passing the hours up late on the phone.
I fell in love.
I didn't mean to.
I didn't realize it.
But now I'm too far gone.

There is an exhaustion in my bones;
one which sleep doesn't help,
coffee doesn't perk.
It comes from missing you,
from waking alone.
It settles in my heart like dust.
My chest feels heavy; my limbs feel weak.

There is a bitter taste upon my tongue;
the sickly sweet taste of a last kiss,
the kiss goodbye.
It makes me nauseous,
it makes me sad.
Tears stream down my cheeks,
lingering on the corners of my lips.
The sweet becomes salty,
I wish I didn't miss you so much

I'm getting better at deleting messages.
I'm getting better at ignoring calls.
I'm getting better at not saying "I miss you."
and not paying attention to the "I never loved you at all"s.

I'm getting better at guarding my heart.
I'm getting better at not falling.
I'm getting better at saying no
and ignoring boys who are good at stalling.

I'm getting better at loving myself.
I'm getting better at forgiving you.
I'm getting better at moving on
and recognizing that our love wasn't true.

we said
we were both better off
but that didn't wash the
metallic taste of blood
from biting my tongue
and begging you to stay.

they say
a watched *** never boils
and that is why I turned my back on the door,
still hoping you would come through it
and say I'm home.


you said
we were forever
but you're the boy
who never could fully love
and I'm the girl
who loved too much
and together we were
chaos and destruction,
a shattered glass in a child's hands.

Our lives were lit by headlights and perfumed of beer.
You tasted like smoke, intoxicating me deep in my bones.
You were the tattooed boy my mother told me to stay far away from
and my father hid that he related to.
Spending time with you was back pedaling into a hurricane of disappointments and bad decisions.

I wouldn't have traded you for the world.