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Sara Jun 2015
3:30- Laying on my bed ****** as **** thinking about your hands (i can't breathe properly)  Delivered
3:40- One day you'll stop answering the phone when I call and I'll never hear you call me baby love again (i hurt in places i can't touch)  Delivered
3:50- I say I love you even when you're not listening and I've learned to be okay with that (can't stop shaking)  Delivered  
4:00- I want out of this place I want to be where you are (save me)  Delivered  
4:10- And if you ever start to hate me, which you should, remember that I hate me more but never as much as I love you (I will always love you)  Delivered  
4:20- I apologize in advance if one day I'm drowning in ***** and spilling my tears into your voicemail (please pick up)  Delivered  
4:30- Suffocation in the form of thinking about someone else touching you (i can't ******* do this)  Delivered
4:40- I like to think that you can't live without me too, I'm always here when you decide to come back (stay)  Delivered
4:50- I'm talking out loud like you're still here but this sadness is weighing down my chest (and you're not here)  Delivered
5:00- Find me drunk at 2 am counting the stars and naming them after you (you always leave me breathless)  Delivered
5:10- I can't love you quietly im sorry you should never love a poet who vomits up there emotions and holds up the mess for reading (numb)  Delivered
5:20- I'm missing you in every moment like you are air and I am drowning (do you miss me too?)  Delivered
5:30- Who will walk me through losing you if you're who I would go to? (I have no one now)  Delivered
5:40- My hands are pens, I want to write novels on every inch of your skin and I want to write my secrets on your lips (I hope you don't ignore my texts)  Delivered
5:45- I've seen you 2 am crossfaded, 3 am panic attacks, 5 am endless tears, 6 am no coffee, and you have always been beautiful to me (always will be)  Delivered
5:50- Loving you is loving the way the world turns and loving you is loving sunsets and loving you is easier every day (I ******* can't stop loving you)  Delivered  
5:55- Sometimes loneliness ices my blood so my heart is left stuttering in my chest (not much longer now)  Delivered  
6:00-  The thing about aching is once it claws into you, for some reason, you want it to hold on and now I spend all of my time at home shaking at the seams and carving my name into the floorboards waiting for someone to ******* notice me. It used to be you. I miss you. **Not Delivered
You know how I like to do everything in  5 or 10 min. I love you.
Sara May 2015
I bet we're going to kiss like addicts hungry for a hit and I'm sorry I'm not made of much except bruises and bleeding knuckles. Your words mostly touch me but I'm begging for your hands to instead. My mind used to be made up of cemeteries and all I thought about was writing eulogies to how dead I felt inside.
I want you to stain my teeth and leave your taste in my mouth permanently. I want you to swallow me whole and take me daily like I'm apart of your well being like you are for me.
A lot of the time I want you naked and quivering for me and a lot of the time I want you wrapped around me so tightly that nothing could tear you apart from me like this ******* distance is right now. I want my name bruised down your spine so you don't leave yourself in ruins.
This is messy and scattered but so are we and I love you more that I know how to breathe.
  Feb 2015 Sara
today it is sunday, and i want to be waking up with you.
look - this isn't going to be a cheesy poem about love, or maybe it is.
the summer of 2013.
i was only 15, i had no idea what love was.
you said it was never unrequited love, but what i perceived was just as bad. you loved the idea of a deadbeat me who would care only when you cared, and who wouldn’t mind being put on the bench when her team was losing. instead, i just scratched out my eyes and went to the mound anyways. somehow i never struck out.
some days i am an overly caffeinated and hyperventilated excuse for post traumatic stress induced dramatizations.
i wrote a trip report on you. the come up is foggy after repeated use. the peak is incredible as always. i am so ******* addicted that sometimes i forget everyone can see the track marks on my forearms.
if i were to speak for myself, i'd tell you that the universe is twice as big as we think it is and you're the only one who made that idea less devastating.
all the boys that had "loved me" before then, loved me with sweaty palms and left me with sad bruises. all the girls that "loved me" before then, loved me with busy mouths and shallow "i love you's". all the boys and girls i thought i might have "loved" were all just something leading me to you, and i think me still falling in love with you two years after we broke up really proves my point. loving you was different. it was hard. it was tiring. it happened fast. it happened so nicely. *it was. so. *******. worth. it. you're so worth it.
you have not been treated the way you should be treated, and i promise to make up for every time you were left upset all night crying because of the ****** person who made you feel that way.
this is so scattered.
it's like i wrote you into ******* existence. i never thought i would get the girl i've been dreaming up. you're everything i've ever written about all bundle up into one perfectly imperfect (beautifully) flawed person. and you're all mine.
look - i used to write you into a sad poem at two in the morning, and my bones trembled like your upper lip as you cried in your bathroom that night two summers ago. i think i’m still shaken because my skin is fitting a little strangely
i feel gravity in my kneecaps
i feel ice rubbing down my spine
i feel false hope and real hope,
and i feel the ten milligrams of relaxation that i took to forget what i could. the mass in my lungs is shrinking, the fear in my empty stomach is being replaced with love and it's all for you you you you y o u.
there was something in my bones that told me to love you. i remember promising to like you even after i knew everything about you, and it turns out i loved you instead.
i'll cut my soul into a million pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home.
i'll write love poems to the parts of yourself you can't stand.
i'll stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you i'm not afraid of your dark. you're so beautiful because you let yourself feel so many things, and that's pretty **** brave.
i am in love with you simply and as difficult as it is to remember all 10 trillion digits in pi. i want all of you, i am in love with all of you. i want you forever, i want to be in love with you forever.
i love you.
this is scattered and **** but my god do i love you
  Feb 2015 Sara
Robert Peck
If I were an artist
I’d draw my way to heaven
Or rather paint myself into your presence
after all they are one and the same
I would craft a sculpture of you
And as much as I'd want the world to see
I’m would to keep it in my heart just for me
water colors to express the gentleness in your eyes
pastels to bring out the fullness of your lips
charcoal to show the depth of your dimples when you smile
If I were an artist I would try to recreate you everyday knowing what the final products will never do you justice
your smile is so illustrious it has gold accents on it
the copper tone of your skin is the perfect hue
If I were an artist I would create these things to resemble you but I’m not so I paint this picture instead
Sara Feb 2015
9:03 pm:* I stand for nothing and fall for everything, but I've never fallen so hard for something as I have for you. I haven't wrote you anything in awhile and I think it's because I feel like I have you safely hidden in the middle of my palm in my fist, but lately I feel you slipping through my fingers. Are we okay?

9:46 pm: I've realized that I have trapped myself in a world of art being with you, everything I touch feels as if I'm experiencing it for the first time, but when I touch you, it's as if I'm touching fire, and baby, I haven't stopped lighting matches just to feel close to you.

10:21 pm: After our first love died out, others taught me love with bruises and punches but you haven't laid a hand on me and I can't decide if you don't love me or if this is true love. I'm leaning towards true love. I'm torn between showing you the darkest parts of me or shining a light on my cracked skin to avert your eyes from my scars. Does that make sense to you?

10:38 pm: This silence burns more than the ***** seeping down my throat could ever and I'm shaking at the thought of your mouth forming the words "goodbye". I've been built on the words "sorry I love someone else" and "this isn't going to work out" and if you listen closely, you can hear each person whisper those words that cut like knives when I cry. I sound like thunderstorms because I'm only a natural disaster, nothing less and nothing more.

11:02 pm: I wish I was bulletproof to the shots of sadness that are fired at me, but I am left convulsing with panic attacks and heart palpitations. Is it weird to want to die of a heart attack? Is it weird to want to be one of your cigarettes that you bite between your teeth? I want to be on top of your lips. I want you to breathe me in. Nothing makes me more afraid than you diving head first into a sea of lies about how I am cold and distant, because I've never felt more close to someone as I do to you. You'll find that I am only shattered glass, but do I ever want to be more for you. I want to be better for you, I want to be able to see happiness pouring out of your eyes so I can drown in them.

11:44 pm: You're a broken home but I still want to retire inside of you. I'll rebuild you if you'd hand me the tools. You don't even have to do so, I will fix you so you stand stronger than you ever have. You are a piece of art painted drunk and I want to kiss your canvas until my lips have left an imprint on you and we merge as one mess. This city rains too much and I have to get out and be with you, even if it does rain too much where you are, you shine brighter than the sun ever could.

1:20 am: I've taken 5 more shots and I can't stop sobbing your name. If I were ever to run into you I feel like it would be in the emergency room, but I'd still kiss you. I've attempted to write how much I love dating the girl of my dreams, I hope I'm still yours.

2:07 am: The slashes in my wrist match the lines in my walls and I can't stop staring at them because you always just say you're fine and I know you're not. I want to be so much more than this pile of dust, I want you to think I hung each star in the sky for you and that I created each galaxy to try and show you my love for you. You don't have to read all of this, my words are small and empty no matter how much of myself I pour into them, but I hope you believe them for once. I want to be so much and so little at the same time. I'm at war with my body and you're holding up a white flag for me and I don't know if I can recover. Somehow I managed to find myself with a handful of pills, just like 3 years ago when I attempted suicide to an Ed Sheeran song. You can say I love you to me but when I say it to you, my lips ache and my head fills with warning signs because it's never been this real before.

4:31 am: I woke up with uneven heart beats because I think you've started to regret me and I'd be lying if I said it never happens. I hope to one day convince you that you put the air in my lungs every day and I don't think I'd wake up every morning without you. Those are two things I'm very sure of. I don’t really remember what I lived for before you, I guess I wrote ****** poetry and thought drowning was fun in some sick way. I’ve been thinking about the way you’re going to kiss me, I’ve been prescribed antidepressants for 3 years and they’ve never really worked but i think your lips could cure me. I remember when we first started dating, i thought skin was supposed to be destroyed and i think thats when you realized that this wasn’t a two person relationship, it was you and I and my depression. I didn’t think the small of my back would ever crave being touched by someone as it does when i think about you. You say you see stars in my eyes and I pray to god that they don’t turn into black holes. I’m letting you pick apart my glass heart piece by piece and i never knew you had such strong hands until i didn’t see a cut on them while you examined such a shattered mess. God, I’m trying to put into words how much i love you and i know you think i don’t mean them and I’m searching for the right words but every time i take a step forward i take two steps back but I’ll keep on pushing because baby, you’re worth more than I can put into words.
  Feb 2015 Sara
Roxxanna Kurtz
Do not fall in love with a poet.
She will feed you galaxies
until you fall sick in her brown eyes.
Then, she'll steal the stars from your breaths,
pin them proudly to her chest,
and claim that she's the night.

And soon you'll miss blue skies,
and summer highlights in her curls.
And she'll ramble in her sleep,
say things she doesn't mean,
and write poems about
how she could never be the right girl.

But, when you think you've had enough,
her words will somehow pull you right back.
Because despite her moonlit dreams,
she's just what you need,
to fill up lonely blue lines
about all the things you lack.
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