Relationships are not couches. I don’t want to be comfortable. I want to wake up at 3 AM shaking because I had a dream you found someone better. I want my chest to ache when it’s pressed up against yours and I want my heart to beat anxiously when I see you.

don't believe the views of society:
there is nothing poetic about heartbreak
there is nothing beautiful about laying on the bathroom floor shaking from the memories that flood into your mind,
craving the embrace of the one who promised he'd never leave,
gasping for air because you don't know how to keep breathing,
throwing up a dinner that didn't digest correctly because of the steadfast ball in your stomach,
falling asleep in class because your nights are consumed with thoughts of him realizing he lost the best thing he ever had,
not leaving your house because everything reminds you of him
from the song on the radio that he used to hate
to the place where you went on your first date and he was too nervous to kiss you

are hands and knees that hit the floor
and crawl back towards what i’d sworn off before
weak, or brave
is it braver to run in the opposite direction
or to stay even when it stings
because when we’re in your car
i know what the crickets outside
are thinking, is it true
am i throwing white sheets over old reminders
written in dust, small whispers leading up
to an attic where all the hurt and confusion is stored
in cardboard boxes labelled DO NOT OPEN

right now i’m sitting on the stairs
with my back against the door
and i’m looking at your face, your face, your face
searching for something maybe i didn’t see before
and the words you wrote at two in the dark
made me miss you when i promised i didn’t,
and i want to stay, but when i try
to convince myself that you’re right,
that pushing you away is the easy way out,
that what we feel is a reason to keep each
other around,
i still find it hard to believe myself
when i tell myself
that i am being strong

I have yet to understand the way I cannot fathom my feelings
I express surface emotions with almost too much ease but
it's the things I feel at 2am when I know you're asleep and not dreaming of me

I want you to need me in the middle of the night because you're aching
I want you to push the hair out of my eyes because you need to see the outline of my face not because it's tangled in between our mouths
I want you to fill this emptiness inside of my chest
I want you to learn the deep crevices of my soul
I want you to know that I can't hold your gaze without feeling insecure
and I want you to tell me that you'll never tire of looking into my hazel eyes and pressing your lips against mine

Somewhere along the way a blue wire crossed a red wire and my brain leaked purple, engulfing me in a haze of anxiety and strife. I like who I am; I like my brain the way it's wired. But I ponder of normality and how people can breathe easily when they are home alone, or how knots do not grow in their stomachs when their eyes lock with a strangers'. I wish someone could rewire my brain because then maybe the pit in stomach would be filled and I would sleep instead of staring at the cracks on my ceiling.

you'll never quite grasp
the aching in my chest
when I think of you not
loving me as much as
I do love you