step one.
you drink. you drink like alcohol is your life source and each gulp is necessary for breath. you make a game. when you say his name? three shots. when you think about him? three bottles. you drink until you forget his name — but really, you’re only going to forget your own.

step two.
you write his name on a messy sheet of paper, your handwriting about as slurred as your speech. you fill each gap with his name, every empty space filled with the curve of j’s and the dots of i’s, the lines of t’s. you step back, look at your masterpiece. crumple it. toss it. then repeat. repeat until you’ve memorized the way your pen curls when writing his name - as if you haven’t already.

step three.
you burn his clothing. all the boxers, the band shirts, the beanies, toss them into the flame. retrieve them after five seconds; burn your hands in the process. wash them. sleep in them.

step four.
fall in love with someone else. but their eyes will not be his eyes. their smile will not be his, his that lights up his entire face, his that did not mend your scars but held your heart in hands and did not break it. they will try, try so hard, but they will never embrace like he did, so

step five*.
you don’t.
you don't get over him. because you will never meet anyone who will pierce you like he did, who could melt you with a look and freeze you with another. you were cracked and flawed and broken and he saw you and he loved you, he took you and cradled you and your scars can never be taken away, there will always be pain; love is not an easy ride. but where there is pain there is joy, in an amount *overwhelming, and in all things bad and good they are wonderful. as he is, as you are, as both of you are  together.

you never get over him. you never stop loving him.
i sure didn’t.

doors open
and doors close
and sometimes
change is
good

i dreamt of bright stars,
but when i had you, dreaming
was needed no more.

Born divergent.
Live with different emotions,
Understand things not to be understood.

That's us. 

We enter a world full of obstacles,
Learn to get past a few,
But then we are met with more.

Children.

We fall over,
But get back up.
We laugh and dance,
No one cares.

We age,
More tears are shed,
Broken rules.
Don't care.
That's us.

Teens.

The Pressure is on,
Our dainty shoulders.
We shake and stumble,
We are broken.

We age even more,
Work becomes a priority.
Your love life is nothing,
It isn't a choice anymore.

You put down your pen,
Think back to when,
Imagination was the life,
Free to do as please.

A new life.

Our mind wanders,
To a new lover,
We think otherwise,
And smile.

They scream and shout,
Hurt us inside.
We can't do anything,
But cry.

We fail our education,
Our  life,
Our parents,
We got nothing left.

We try again,
Nearly succeed,
But that's enough,
To keep us happy.

To start again,
Finding what we need,
A person to love,
And soon a family.

An adult.

Our dream,
Head in the clouds,
Not thinking straight,
And lose them.

We try again,
Finding the right one,
Failing and finally,
Winning them.

Drunk from hard work,
You stumble home,
Fall down your couch,
And think back.

Is it supposed to be like this?
Is it supposed to be hard?
Is it just me,
Or is it everyone?

Is love supposed to be this?
Is the world supposed to be cruel?
Can I get a better life,
Or is this it?

Thinking, hurting,
crying, laughing
and eventually,
you think.

This is it.
Appreciate it.
Adore it.
Because,

C'est La Vie.

i wish that you saw
the movies inside my head;
you just saw reruns.

you hit me with your
flashbulb eyes, and i swear i'd
never been blinder.