kind of like a Bon Iver song

she guessed to him

you should be more careful with your words

he nods knowingly
she says things like this quite often to him

I know
but why should I care what happens to me?

she sinks to the floor
clutching that tiny black paper heart

alright

alright

he holds his own
in his hands lovingly

may I kiss you?

he tenderly runs a hand across her cheek

it makes me sad

what does, darling?

she lets her eyes linger on his
own pale ocean blue

seeing you cry
watching your tears fall

i'm not crying

he says defiantly

oh babe
your heart is

I swear we were mixed tapes in our past lives
Mixed tapes handcrafted by secret admirers
I swear someone delicately knit you together in the womb
Someone must have because the lines in your forehead
are like intricate details someone had to have thought up
and your neck is a subtle waterfall bending to kiss the earth
like a gift
Your lips are a gift
a sonnet someone was dying to kiss on the cheek
I was dying to press my lips to your cheeky soul
your fragile bones
Every inch of me begs to keep you
tucked into my back pocket
like a wallet photo you show you to all your dearest friends
your complete strangers
Let me keep you like you keep your favourite love song,
like you keep Bon Iver on constant repeat
I want to be something so dear to you

She shines like milk on a black cat and she shines like pumpkins
when the dusk is muggy with lung butter and applesauce.
she shines like horses
with perfect ******* that imprecisely
and long legs that absolutely
and my heart

from me.

I leave a pillow open next to me at nights,
just in case
on some fortunate night,
you come out of my dreams.

It’s three am.
Or actually 2:58, right exactly now.
Sitting in bed with my cup of mac and cheese
I made in the microwave
and woke up my roommate,
because if I’m getting sexiled until 2 anyhow,
I’ll make some ******* mac and cheese.
Blowing on my plastic fork
listening to Bon Iver sing about his skinny love.

That’s something that’s been concerning me lately,
Skinny love.
But I’m eating anyway.
Because rolling on the black top of the playground
(dark and secret, with just enough irony)
with a newly blue-eyed boy
made me hungry.

katy perry wasn't far off track
sometimes my emotions feel like plastic bags
drifting in the african dust...
a place i put my feet
one february
years ago

and flatsound tells me to come clean
but i can't
i have nothing to contrast it with
ignorance is my final plea

and i don't even know
what holocene means,
bon iver

but i know
that poetry is just words on different lines
and they're the only ones i seem to write
these days

when you suddenly realise your in love with your best friend.
the one that was there when you were in yr 8 and were going through your "I’m ‘creative’ with my fashion" phase
the one who was there when you liked all those guys and embarrassed yourself in front of them
the one who was there when you developed that eating disorder and hated everything about yourself
the one who was there when you became the very ***** you never thought you’d become
the one who was still there after all the **** you went through with your dad
the one who helped pick you up from the ground when life kicked the living **** out of you
the one who you never thought you’d ever find attractive.
the one who made you laugh until you cried
the one who creeped up on you without you really noticing
the one who swept you off your feet even when he didn’t want to
the one who you know you’ll find very hard to stop loving.

Bon Iver
Soothes my irritation
I look out the window
The beautiful mountains
Undulating with
The sun's rays and
The dark contrast
Of shadows
Against the
Blinding white snow.
It's a good day
To be alive.
The sun tells me
That there's always goodness
Even if you can't see it
Because it's hiding behind the clouds
For a minute.
The sun will always come out.
It's a good day
To be alive.