There are some things I did not know.        

I did not know you could sit in a room with someone and miss them. Miss them because they just don't quite speak to you how they used to and you realise, this is it. This is where he starts to cut me out.
All of this provokes an old, intense and overwhelming need to study every detail of their face and commit to memory, all without being caught.
    
 I did not know you could love the shade of someone's skin in a particular colour t-shirt      
Try to keep it in. Repressing smiles? Well, life could be worse, couldn't it. But wow, I wish I could un-invent all the colours in the world just so he had to wear that colour constantly.

I did not know you could become obsessed with the way someone scrunches up their pinky finger when they play guitar, and scrunches up their nose when they hit the high notes    
And wow, isn't it just the cutest thing. That is an image of absolute peace. You in your favourite place, because all you need is the guitar. All I need is you to have the guitar. I swear, I could stay here forever.      Sing me into old age.

I did not know you could develop a passion for tea, because he likes it too and I'll drink it excessively because it reminds me of you. I confess, I would always give you a little extra sugar and you said my tea is the best.

I did not know I could wake up so blissfully in your bed sheets as that trademark cup of tea stands purposefully on the edge of the bed  
And Lord, did you create this boy with the purpose of melting my heart? I can't tell you how many awful nights sleep have been erased because the beautiful boy with the tea is there when my eyes open. Maybe I'll pretend to fall asleep often, to recreate the moment.

I did not know I have recorded your smell to memory until the smell with a different face passed me and all I could see was you. Because I noticed the smell first and I was looking around for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. I guess this aromatic ghost constantly haunts me.

I did not know I could constantly feel queasy before I see you, though it was nearly everyday. Crippling butterflies. The worse bit about those, is you have to pretend they're not there.

  I did not know I could be so protective over someone who is not even mine. I'd argue for you and fight for you and I'd be that one person you could always count as being on your side, but really...well, it won't make you love me, but it helps me to love you.  

I did not know I would grow to feed on your words and hang onto every single one that leaves your mouth. Sometimes you speak and I wish l could just take out a notebook because I never want to forget a thing. I'll sit and wait for your words or wait for you to sing.    Sing me into eternity.

  I did not know I could love the colour your cheeks go when you are hot. Your entire face is just warm. And that's another thing about you, you just radiate. Goodness, knowledge, wisdom, understanding. I can see it all bubbling under your skin. Your face is flushed and it's making mine burn too.  

I did not know I would ever know this much about you. I did not know we would ever be friends. You were a person I was merely aware of.  But you took that chance. You took a chance that saved a life. So I guess sometimes, breaking professionalism is worth it. Maybe. Was I worth it?

I did not know that I did not love before you, for before you I did not know what love was.

4/3/14

• i think maybe i get so much back pain because i'm piggy backing the devil

• i set dry leaves on fire because that's what you did to my life

• there's tremendous guilt that comes with picking flowers and for that reason, i can't love you

- you pick something beautiful and it's bound to die.

- maybe, if i pick you, i could press you between the pages of my favourite book.  

• your daffodil lives in my bell jar.

- your life between sheets of paper not my sheets of cotton

• i fell out of love with the life they gave me and began to drown in the life i was creating for myself

• knowledge is crucial but we shouldn't undervalue experience

• jump, jump, jump.

• in school we're supposed to be taught and prepared for life, we get depressed and want to die
and maybe it's because we can't apply the f*cking factorisation equation to our feelings

• "i love history,
you see people being brave and courageous and stepping out for what they believe.
But, God forbid, any of you actually develop a spirit and personality and think there is a life bigger and more important than this institution in which we trust with the lives of our future"

• now is the moment for change. We admire historical figures for their courage, but very few of us would actually do the same.

• you shouldn't expect much from people if they trample over something as beautiful as flowers,
why would they give a second thought to walking all over your life?

• they will never know i picked a tree

• The rain nourishes the soul, make the most of it then let it leave coaster marks on your skin

• my lips are flaming red but yours are the ones burnin my cheeks

• i am the rusty penny you always tell the shop to keep

• i'll stay in bed all day. not because i want to die, i just don't want to live.

• i don't listen to our favourite songs anymore because they're an open gateway for you to haunt me

• isn't it so strange to feel the pressure of lips against your own after so long

• i don't want to spend another second in your atmosphere

- i don't want to be pulled in by your gravity or drown in your oceans. Just let me breathe.

• how i wish wish wish we had kissed

• i can't believe they let me fall through the cracks of the system.

• i sliced my thumb open in a biology lesson.  Isn't that ironic? Eye-ronic.

• i still flinch when i spray perfume before leaving the house. Even though there's no need anymore.  

- that's one thing you don't realise that you will miss. Now i can cover my wrists endlessly with sweet smells and hey, they are pretty.

- maybe the perfume makes it all better. Now i'll spray it daily on my arms and you'll get perfume on your lips from kissing sweet spots

• i see ghosts in these school corridors. It's tormenting to have to stay here.

• if i was in a burning building, you would try to save my life. i live in my body and i'm setting it on fire, so where are you now?

- maybe you could try to help but don't breathe in my smoke or you will die too.

• i wrote 'smoke' and my phone autocorrected it to 'smile'. i am happy.

• there is great safety in a passed moment.  

- you can eagerly relive the moment he pulls you into him, hindsight diminishing the nervousness of the moment because you know now what happens.

- you can watch from a great temporal distance the groundbreaking decisions of others and find comfort in the passed moment as you know the outcome.

- maybe, in this way, we underestimate the moments as they happened

• you won't remember everyday of you life, how strange is it that you could forget today even happened.

I can feel the dry dirt tracks
between my toes and under
my bare feet.
Cars have been here,
when the mud was wet.
Footprints, paw prints,
they show me ghosts of lazy
sunday afternoons
and bicycle tracks,
perhaps, I could
track them back.

So, this dry field under my
feet is ugly
with it's yellowing grass that
stretches endlessly.
The day is dark
and the field is dead.

Strange, I feel it should be blooming.

Lost, the grass is lifeless,
dry and dull
it would be so simple and
satisfying to spark up a
wildfire.
Overwhelming, hot and all consuming.
Over before you feel a thing.

And ****, this field is flippin' hopeless.
I want to set it on fire
               see it burn
               see it die
Just to see something.

I want to stand in the glare of it's death and welcome the coming beauty.

We had temporary tea parties on this field
placed mats and rugs over the yellow grass
so for a while, at least, I forgot it was there.
Now the plastic cups have toppled and the tea *** has blown away.

Maybe, baby, I'm in love with the sadness.
Maybe, I'm in love with the field.
Maybe, I want to stand there and watch it burn
forever
because I don't think
standing with my face in the sunlight will ever match up to the burning dance of the flames licking my face.

Kiss me on the forehead, kiss me on the cheek.

Would you take off your shoes and dance barefoot with me in this field of death?
Hold my hand, let's run, until there's nothing left.
Set the poppies alight and let me swallow them whole,
away we go, away we go...

sometimes
i lose words in
your eyes
so i just have
to keep
swimming
hoping
they are
there for me to
find

my mouth

tastes
like cigarettes
but you've

stopped
smoking
do u
want to share
&taste; mine
sometime
Dear,
boy
who saved
my life
the boy
who tickles
my back
and lets me
sleep

r u holding out for that
one day maybe

do you know
i fall asleep
with my hands
touching
together

but I notice the difference
as yours Are tougher
bigger
rougher
but i've never had the pleasure

of falling asleep with
your hands
though ive slept
cocooned
in your scent

do you know
i've never been very good
at confessions

i confess
i could draw
freehand
the shape of your lips
from Memory

(i could show you
      where they curve
       and bend
       and they look like
       the perfect destinatIon
       for my life to end
  killing myself,
        to die upon a kiss
       
        to die upon 
        your kiss
        i'm killing myself
       by even thinking this)

i confess
i could shade
the exact ways
your hair falls
dowN
by your face

(i could explain
    the smelL of your hair
    after a long day at work
    it feels thicker
    as it resists against
my hands
      
     you dO that too
     do you know)

i confess
i could describe
the wonders
in
your eyes
of
your eyes
so accurately
they would be seen
by the blind

(i'd rather not tell you
       how i feel
       when you catch me
staring
       but i just
                       can't
         help myself
i neVer want to miss
       a single blink
a wink
       no time to think)

i confess
words,
the words,
keEp
running
sprinting
dancing
prancing
in my mind
but i cannot find
an acceptable order
to confess them in



love in you i am with



one two three four five six


and, oh father,
there is no need to confess
for We have not sinned

he would not look
upon me
if i was the last to exIst
he merely
glances over to me
now and then

and, oh father,
you know
how i desire
These
tormenting
words
to go

he could barely tell you
the colour of my Hair
i could tell you
the colour of his
when he was five

milky way kid

do You know
me
am i
just a girl
who falls asleep
alone
in the backseat
Of the car

that old red polo
is not so appealing
anymore

and, love,
i confess
or
these words will die
on the lips
yoU leave
unkissed

i am in...

*i cant