i like to think
  you are the
one
but i know
you will leave
                               soon
and it will
break
me
to

p
i
e
c
e
s

when i was
a child
a bird flew into
our window
and died
i cried when my mother said
that it happens all the time
and i wondered
why they didn't just
change direction

but now that i am
in love with
you
and i know that i will
crash
when you stop loving me
i understand
that it is so hard
to turn around and
avoid the window
because what if
it for once
was open

he won't write you poetry like neruda or bukowski. he won't ink your name underneath his skin nor will he cut his hair shorter for your mom. he won't stay up with you to read jane austen and hemingway. sometimes all you'll hear from his end of the line is snoring and you'll know he has fallen asleep. again. he won't take you to a romantic dinner every other night. he won't surprise you with a picnic basket on a tuesday afternoon to whisk you away to a spontaneous date on the beach. his hand will sweat sometimes. he will smell like cigarettes and the inside of a Starbucks. he will chew his food loudly and eat with his leg up. he will wake you up in the middle of the night just to tell you about a dream that woke him up. he will do this because he's afraid he'll forget in the morning. he will not get along with some of your friends, your dad will ask you "are you sure?" and your little brother will hate him. he will have acne and blackheads. he won't be around everytime you need him. he won't magically appear just in time to catch after you've tripped down the stairs.

he won't be the guy you keep reading in novels about. he won't be the mysterious, poetry-writing, guitar-strumming, *****-dropping British guy you keep wishing you'd finally meet.

surprisingly, despite of all of this, you will fall for him anyway. because even though you wanted a love story similar to those you found printed in pages, you will realize that they end after a dramatic moment in the airport, or a long romantic make-out session under the pouring rain, or after the one major problem is resolved.

you will realize that nothing comes after for them. what happens after the romantic colors of sunset fade and the darkness takes over?

you will realize that your own story is way better. because even though he talks too loud in libraries and hogs the blanket, he stays. he is there beside you at 2am when you suddenly wake up from a nightmare. you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your waist. you can hear him whisper "i love you" and it will be dripping with honesty. and that is more than any fictional poetry-writing, guitar-strumming, *****-dropping British guy can ever do.

you make me worried.
the kind of worried that makes me want to puke
not the kind that people have for losing the things they like.
you make me worried because you smile so ******* much
and right at me
like some sort of ******* laser beam
and i can't work out your motives behind it.
you make absolutely ****-all effort to see me
(meaning none)
but whenever you do
you lean on doorposts
and cross your legs
and look me right in the face
like you want to walk across this room
and look at my face
closer
and that makes me
*******
worried