I won’t give anyone else my heart
Because it’s only been broken once
And once is enough
When I know you won’t be coming back.

You told me to write this down
So I did.
It was the first thing you ever wanted to be permanent.

But a year later I found out you had scribbled it out
With a black Sharpie.

Now I’m left wondering just how permanent words are.

It was the summer of missed promises
And I tried so hard to make it up to you that year
But everything was different.
We couldn’t get back in the same rhythm
Because I’d hate to force it.

It was the summer of forgotten love letters
Because we never knew how to sign off.
They always ended up in empty desk drawers with “for sale” signs on them
Because we wanted them to be anonymous.

It was the summer of bonfires
And nostalgia
For a time when the only thing that made sense was your laugh and your hand in mine;
For a time when I had no idea what I really wanted,
Because all anybody’s given me was a broken heart.

It was the summer I dared to look in my high school yearbook;
Crisscrossed with scribbled writing
In everybody’s haste attempt to sum up the four years I hated most.
I read them with tears in my eyes
And I’m sorry for that-
I’m usually not like that; regretting everything that didn’t happen between us

It was summer of drunken nights
In small attempts to erase you from my mind
It was the summer I realized
I may never see you again.

Sometimes we don’t know what sober is
Because the sadness makes us drunk
And our happiness makes us high.
Sometimes we’re only completely ourselves when we have a bottle in hand
And a smoke in the other.

You enter freshman year with the confidence of something new
And by sophomore year you lose some of it until
Senior year you’re nothing.
Waiting to start over to pretend that you’re happy again.

This is not a poem
And this isn’t poetry.
This is my shaking heads
And blubbering thoughts as the tears stream down my cheeks

Because sadness is more relatable
Than my happiest days

It’s 2 am
And the walls scare me
Because the shadows don’t look like me
And the moon is a piece of cheese
That is too bright.

It’s 2am
And the ink spills
And my hands are witness to the tragedy
The Dawn helps
But can’t get back what I’ve already lost

It’s 2am
And I close my eyes
Hoping for some peace
From my ravaged thoughts

I get shaken awake
By my mind reminding me of all the words
I haven’t written down yet

And suddenly
It’s 3am
And I write
C
O
C
O
O
N
With shaking hands.

I stared at the letters
That can start life again
Willing them to transform
Transform into some beautiful 2 winged creature.

I begged it to leave
This 4-wall enclosure
Because protection is only an idea

The walls are daring me to knock them down
Like the dominoes I secretly keep under my bed

It’s 4am
And the words are pouring out of my mind
But my pen can’t keep up.
I am drowning.