Do we all just come here to share our spirit of the stairs -
the things we wish we could have said
to the ones who don't care?
I wonder, what would they think if they read?
"Man,
what a freak -
so ****** in the head."

Do we choose to be poets,
or did it choose us?
If I told you writing is a roller coaster,
would you get a head rush?

Perhaps it's just that we care too much.
Painstakingly fretting over every word.
Is anyone even listening?
Tell me,
how much have you heard?

11:16 PM
each time i attempt to sleep, each time
i try to push and shove the thought of you out of my head, i fail. miserably.
1:27 AM
every moment spent with you engulfs my brain. every smile, every laugh we shared, the time you first asked if you could kiss me. an ocean full of memories i'm drowning in.
2:01 AM
i realize my days and nights have lingered on for weeks now and still you aren't here, nor anywhere near. still you are away. still you are there. while i remain here, in this bed, hopelessly missing you. hoping wherever you are, that you are hopelessly missing me too.
2:33 AM
i realize you'll never be here.. ever.
2:47 AM
my bed feels so empty and i can't stop tracing over the place where your body once filled the empty space. keeping the other half of my sheets warm.
3:13 AM
you've managed to make it through another night of running through my head. i keep scratching down things that will allow you to escape my brain and rest on my pages, but i stopped, because i got jealous of the pages, and wanted you to rest in my arms.
6:39 AM
the sun is starting to peek through my blinds. his eyes now opening, waking up to kiss the horizon good morning. i prepare to close mine, forcing myself to sleep, and imagine kissing yours goodnight.

Put on suspenders and gave them a dance.
(When it comes to girls,
he hasn't a chance.)
I could care less about warnings and threats,
because for tonight
I know I'm the best dressed.

Went to a show and lost all control.
"I'm just here for the music.
I love it.
You know?"
Nine times out of ten,
they don't.

Went to a gym,
and never felt so depressed.
"I feel surrounded by lonely people desperate for ***."

This from a guy who proofreads his texts.
Spells out his laughs.
Drinks from the glass.

"What you need to do
is work on your shoulders, triceps, and chest."

Nah,
I'm good on that.
I'll just keep doing the things I like best.
"You'll never find a girl that way."
Ah,
give it a rest.

you don't have a home
you create a home inside of others
you built a home in me, you made me your home
to you home was wherever i was
in order to build a home you need an empty space
if theres no empty space you have to destroy, abolish, demolish everything in sight
[why so selfish?]
but i didn't mind
i let you destroy every part of my being
i let you build a home inside me
i let you replace my memories with lovely memories of us in that home
you never gave me the key to the front door
you knew my trembling hands could never pick the lock
the door was locked for a day
a week
a month
my heart pounds, my hands shake
[ youre gone, youre gone, i need to find you, you need the key, i need you]
my hands begin to feel weak
i fall to my knees
my heart beats faster
[i cant catch up]
you're gone
my ribs are bruised
my knuckles are sore
her home is an abandoned building
my soul is a ghost town

Tell her.
Tell her that the way her voice sounds makes your bones tremble.
And the way your name sounds when it rolls off of her tongue is indescribable.
Tell her that if she were to remove your brain from your head, all she'd find is her fingerprints.
Tell her that written along the walls of your heart is her name.
And that this secret that has been locked away in the marrow of your bones cannot be contained any longer.
So go.
Tell her.
Love is not a whisper.
It is not a thought that cowards in the back of your mind when she is near,
And comes back when she leaves.
Love is standing on the top of a building and screaming until your throat bleeds.
Love is igniting a fire that cannot be contained nor put out.
Go to her.
Tell her.