i miss him and i don't know why.
i do.
it *****, and i want it to stop.
i don't want it to stop.

i just want him to know.
no, i want him to know and feel the same.
but he doesn't and he won't.
that's ok.
no it's not. he won't and that hurts
a little.

no, a lot.

He called me pretty,
and my friends thought that was cute.
I did too, but only on my own.
Because how could I tell them
that I thought pretty had never sounded so nice,
and how could I tell them
that I smile quietly to myself when I remember,
and how could I tell them
that nothing, never mind...
(I like this boy too.)

he has the most beautiful eyes
mine have ever seen.
i finally understand
when people say,
you can get lost in people's eyes.
his can make me dizzy,
give me vertigo.
they even make me wonder
if my eyes are the most beautiful
that his have ever seen.

It falls,
My heart falls
dropping through the place where my stomach used to be,
for it too has fallen away.
Out of me.
I feel empty,
wishing for weightlessness,
to float up and away from this now shell of me.
Yet stuck firmly on the ground
stuck by the sadness that fills my empty abdomen,
sadness that nails me to the floor.
Even without a heart you can still feel some things.

In school they tell me
I am preparing for something
College, jobs, life
But why?
Why prepare? Must we map it all out
Decide our fates, and say it's because we have to?
We created this and now we are stuck
Acting instead of Reacting

I wonder who we are,
who I am.
if I am we, then what is they?
Are we stardust collections? Are they?
Perhaps, perhaps not.
Maybe the better question is not what we are,
but what we do.