everything is poetry, in the same way that nothing is
and i'd be lying if i said i didn't hate him more each time we fell in love
and green eyes are my favorite but his are brown
so brown are my favorite but only when he's around

i liked falling off of swings when i was 8,
i was the kid pushing my feet against
the ground just a little harder
than the rest
it wasn't because i liked
the burn of the mulch as
i came crashing through it,
i just liked the way time
kind of stopped
just before i dropped

and that's how i grew up,
chasing after feelings,
not people,
feelings,
not things

you were a feeling in the same way that i felt nothing with you in my bed
and i told all my secrets to your neck
but you never heard a single one

and as time went by
i got younger every day
and you get older constantly,
i can taste it on your coffee lips,
but that's okay
i always liked the way
coffee tastes so bitter it's sweet