hey dad.
how are you?
i miss you. a lot.
although you're just a text away, i still can't bring myself to carry through.
i hope she treats you well. and i hope those boys aren't ornery *******.

i sometimes think about the day at the st. louis children's mueseum.
it was happiness.
i think that's my reason.

i still haven't told you about it; the darkness, i mean
my darkness i should say
because i know about yours
maybe we can bond
since our biological bond isn't real

sometimes when i'm sad, i want to call you
but you're probably busy
or maybe you don't care
i don't know

i wanna tell you how i can't stop thinking about filling the emptiness and longing, with substances you've had issues with in the past
speaking of, you're drinking again.

i blame her whole-heartedly
although it pains me not to give the fault to myself for once,
i still will always blame her

did you know that when you got engaged, i wanted to jump off a cliff?
probably not.

do you know that i still sometimes feel like that?
but not just becasue of you.
mom is a factor and sonia and grandma and friends and boys
but you,
you were the one i never thought would make me feel so ******

it's cliche, i know
an other suicidal teen girl with daddy issues

i'm thinking about what would happen if i were to visit you in the fall
imagining her on your arm makes my heart feel stretch across the grand canyon of space that seperates your world and mine

someday i will tell you
everything
every feeling and thought and wrong-doings
i will say it all

dad, i miss you to the ******* moon and back
it's five in the moring and i'm thinking of the way you used to take care of our yard
you were just getting bad then
i was young
i didn't realize
please know i've grown into a woman
without you
i get it now
i'm imagining seeing you in september and you sugar coating the truth and me crying over a false reality
so please be honest with me if you want to be in my life
i run on truthfulness and cynical humor
and if you can't handle me
tell me
because i deserve the truth as much, if not more than you

i love you, ron.
and you will always be my father
no matter who comes in goes in my life
you will walk me down the aisle and we'll be happy
as happy as we were that day at the st. louis children's muesuem

i miss you so ******* much, dad
call me back as soon as you get this.
i hope you are doing well.

best friends
that titled has been stripped away
are we even considered friends anymore?
what even makes someone a best friend?
is it their inabily to say no or tell you a lie- no
that can't be it
because you lied
and apparently
best friends aren't supposed to lie to each other
it's not even that your friendship not being in my life at the moment is a lose
i just miss having someone like you; someone who can relate

it's 4:30 in the morning and i just stalked your vines from the beginning of last year
what the ****
you've changed
but we all have
as of now, i don't know if it was for the better or the worse

it's evident that friendships can be rekindled
but you completely lost my trust
i don't know if we'll ever be on good terms again

i knew you were staring at me the other day
the last time we saw each other after
"the break-up"
you kept going out of your way to wave at people standing near me or look back and see me laughing with my new best friend
it's weird to think that you were over at my house less than two weeks ago
and everything
every single thing
is different now

i hadn't really realized that things can happen in the blink of an eye
the thing that keeps getting me down
is that i tried
to save the friendship
you were the one who lied
you were the one that ruined two other friendhips of mine in the process
you are not a nice person

i'm shaking my aching head as i'm hoping that you're okay
what the ****

the littlest things keep bringing back memories of us
i'm calling you and I, an us,
almost like a break-up
i wanna throw all our collaborated poems in the still lasting embers of our burnt-out friendship

i just hope you get what you deserve

i've had 6 sleepless nights since the last time we talked
if you even care
it's 6 am and i've been up all night filling the void with netflix sitcoms
now i'm sitting here writing about you while drinking coffee
i saw you last night, making eye contact with me across the sea of old faces
and all i can think about is getting ****-faced just to forget you
when you told me that you missed me the last time we communicated, what did you mean?
i feel like you missed me begging for your attention
which is understandable
please stop trying to forget that i get you more than those blonde transparent items you hang out with
i'm here for you and always will be
no matter how hard you try to keep me away
something pulls me back to you
but recently
i haven't wanted to come back to you
i thought i was over the butterflies
the ******* butterflies
that i used to get when my phone lit up and it was you

you know,
i read all our messages from the first time we started talking
the other morning
it was 3:03 am
and for some reason i wanted to
call you
maybe make up an excuse to get you to come over
but i'm over it
obviously
it's not like this poem is about you or anything
it's not like the hole in my heart has your name etched in it or anything
it's not like i took the burden off your back that day in march at that bonfire or anything
the world doesn't orbit around you
but for some reason
i orbit around your hazel eyes and cute-*** smirk

you called me the other day, to ask for your textbooks back.
it got me thinking, you know.
i remembered the first time you said hello to me in the Starbucks on 4th street.
the way your ring finger and pinky curled as you waved to me.
it was november 7th.
i didn't see you again until after thanksgiving break.
we had a creative writing class together.
professor calhoon.
he told us that if we were to work together, we would be two of the greatest writers to ever study at Reed.
our first date was december 15th.
we went ice skating and drank horchata.
it had began to snow as you walked me home, where i didn't let you kiss me.
it's been a year and a half and i still remember the way you laughed when i rejected your lips.
you seemed to have no flaws for the first three weeks.
you were perfect to me.
i think i liked they way you made my problems feel. as if they were just a speck on the road map of my life. and just because everything seemed to focus on the moment in time, they weren't as big as i perceived them to be.
you told me you liked the way i bit my lip when i was deep in thought.
when you came to pick up your books i bit my lip to see if you would ask what's wrong. but you didn't. please don't think i'm crazy but i know she doesn't understand you the way i did or the way i do.
i see the way you interact with her in public or when she tries to hold your hand on the train and you refuse. i see the way she gets upset when your deep in thought. do you tell her everything is going to be okay? like how you used to tell me that? when you say that, what do you actually mean? do you mean that when you walk out my door you won't catch the feelings i caught on november 7th?
or maybe you're talking to her about yourself. and saying that everything will be okay with you.
i don't know why i'm pouring my every thought about since i saw you last into your voice mail.
you don't even have to call back or maybe i just called to say i want my textbooks back.

the robber sneaks into
my space of illuminating
sadness
trying to piece together
the things that make me
tick
soon enough he thinks
he has it figured out
placing screws in the abyss,
knowing that if I tock he did
something
wrong
i want to tell him that
nothing will work
no matter how hard
he tries
my hands are broken and nothing
will ever
make them tick again
as much as they can try
as much as i'm already turning my
cogs to start again
the robber takes my broken hands
but just for a bit
"let me borrow them" he says
when he brings them back they are
rusty and used
i want to tell him that it hurts to tick,
how just because i was condoning
the robbing; i wasn't accepting it.
but i don't say a word
i just croak a broken tock
and let him rob me
all over again

I'm sorry if I forget to
breathe, when I'm with you
I just get too **** caught up I'm the way you make me feel.
I sometimes forget that you are just a person,
although you are viewed as a god
please know I don't
mean everything I say
around you
because most times,
I forget that I am talking
out loud because our thoughts are so in sync.
I hope you feel the same way someday, or at least
want to kiss me,
even just once,
for 17 seconds
and maybe then,
when our lips
have collided,
you will realize
everything that I never
said and
if i ever forget to breathe
around you, read this at my funeral
because if you cry, at least
then i will know you felt the same way;
the first time i cried in your car, you didn't know.
we were driving home from a bonfire at 2:30 in the morning. everything seemed clear that night.
we had established our similarities.
i cried quietly to myself
as we arrived at my house. i ******* wanted to kiss you. you texted me right when you got home. this is when i starting worrying about your well being. and now I'm regretting that because i feel like I'm wasting my time and i feel like you might never feel the same. i hate when you fall asleep on me even though i know you text multiple girls; especially at night. i hope you don't take that the wrong way. if i were to stop breathing around you tomorrow, i would never know the taste of your lips or the feel of your bare chest to know that, I'm sad
but since this is my funeral, it's inevitable. i hope you are choked up, but i also hope you find peace. i don't even know if what I feel for you is true, but I hope you can tell me
in another life