you didn't blow up my world. you didn't. losing you didn't feel like the apocalypse and there's no way i'm crying over you. two years of holding your calloused hands in mine wasn't the highlight of my life. seeing your hair fade from deep rich shades of purple to a light airy lavender never made my heart stop. i can't even remember how many times i had to remind myself that you were even mine. because you wouldn't do it for me.

i learned how much you love to hold on. your knuckles are white. your room is full to bursting with little useless things and i never once wondered why you don't throw them away. you don't know me better than i know myself. i can't pick you out from a crowd and right now i don't want to. the fact that you broke up with me over text doesn't bother me anymore. or at least that's the story i'm going with this time. i already forgot the exact words you said.

you didn't blow up my world, you tilted it on it's axis. the day i lost you was the day the world kept going on without me instead of ending like it was supposed to. i can't cry over you because i can't even breathe. years with you have shown me that my life is all highlighted. you make even my broken childhood feel like a dream. the ever shifting color of your hair never stopped my heart because it could only go faster and faster to keep pace with your laugh as i twisted it around my fingers. you never reminded me in words, you did it with your sure steady gaze as you walked me all the way to the end of your driveway when i had to go.

you love holding on to broken things because you're worried that no one else will love them. that's why you held on to me. and you will never know me like i know me because you always believed me to be better than i am. you made me see the light in myself even after i called myself a black hole. i see you in every place we used to share and i don't ever want to pick you from a crowd because i'm scared i'll run to you. i don't remember what you said when you let me go because i'm still holding on. my knuckles are white too.

and i'm so sorry that i don't hate you

you didn't blow up my world. you didn't. sparks didn't fly in every direction when i saw your face for the first time. your hair had blue tips that were fading fast and i didn't think i was in love. i just thought you looked like a picture someone had left in the sun for too long. and everything about you confirmed it: that you soaked in things that drained the life out of you.

i can't even say that you are my world. you're not. you aren't my missing piece and nothing about you could ever make me whole. you are broken and bruised in so many places that i can't tell if your spirit is black and purple or you just tell people that so they don't offer you any more band aids. i wish i could say that i wouldn't do that, but i want so badly to paint you gold that i might do something stupid, like make you smile instead of cry.

you didn't blow up my world, you just tilted it on it's axis. sparks didn't fly because they were too busy pushing the breath back into my lungs. you took it away when you were soaking in your own laughter. a laugh that i can't say is mine because i'm laughing too. you don't fill me up, you overflow. i'm just lucky to catch some of your drops in my own overflowing cup. your black and purple soul that splinters into a million pieces just to put itself back together again would never look as good in gold. dark matter has no use for a little aurum. because you are a galaxy, my love.

a galaxy right next to mine, and when they met... let me tell you, you didn't blow up my world. you just tilted it on its axis. you gave the colors bigger names and the flowers brighter colors. the sky dances at night and my dreams are full of yours. and i like the view.

i used to think fireflies were just in the movies
because we don't get enough rain here
the first firefly i ever saw took my breath away
and has had it ever since

i used to think snow was just in the movies
because we don't get enough rain here
the first snowflake i ever caught on my tongue gave me goosebumps
and it let me keep them

i used to think magic was just in the movies
because we don't get enough love here
but the first time you kissed my lips, you turned my world on it's axis
and it never quite turned back

i.
we both want to get rid of our last names.
maybe that was a sign.

ii.
we always talked about faking our deaths together
curled up on your couch when everyone was
sleeping. i hope you remember what my desperation
tasted like. at midnight i had to go.
like cinderella. but it was wintertime and the pumpkins
were moldy. you never came to my door with a shoe or a question.
maybe that was a sign.

iii.
you chased after her when i was sitting patiently at your feet.
she was joking about an anime i hadn't watched
and you got mad. the joking mad that makes you laugh until
you're red. the way you never got with me. maybe
scared that i'd run. the way you did after her. i know i shouldn't be
jealous, but.
maybe that was a sign.

iv.
i asked you what flavour i would be and you said
raspberry. i never tasted them the same again. you didn't ask me
to tell  you which you'd be, but i told you mango anyway.
who ever heard of a raspberry mango smoothie? one day i
made one. just to see what we tasted like. i could only pick out the
raspberries.
maybe that was a sign.

v.
you got a tarot reading from someone else. i tried not to be hurt, but you never wanted one from me. i was too cut up to ever
ask you why.
you told me what your cards said, and none of them were about me. i guess it's selfish.
but mine are always about you. god, do you even know
how much you break me? i must be addicted to it
because i stay. i stay and stay and stay
even when you get another tarot reading from her.
maybe that was a sign.

vi.
i always texted first. always.
maybe that was a sign.

vii.
i'm the one writing all these poems about you. like we're broken up. you never said the words, and neither did i.
but i'll never forget what the moon told me late that night
when you didn't linger at my door. half past midnight.
i try not to read too much into it, but.
maybe it was a sign.

nightmares are just the dreams
that the stars held on to for so long
they fell from the sky
before the wish came true