I do not like you
I do not like the feeling of you
I do not like the smell of paper and inked fingers at 4 am
I do not like the feel of a paper heart
I do not like writing poems for a boy with a sunny smile
I do not like the feeling of want,of wanting to wander mindlessly in the vast universe that is his soul
I do not like the feeling of free falling,no safety vest on
I do not like feeling the need to surrender,the need to peel off my layers until I am nothing but paper fine flesh and scars and everything that I had tried to conceal
I do not like feeling the need to expose myself to you
I do not like feeling the need to come undone in your arms
I do not like the feeling of wanting to trust you,to trust you enough to let you steal me away from my love affair with solitude and sadness
I do not like the feeling of wanting to be a cliché disaster,of wanting to be your beautiful mess
I do not like the feeling of being afloat,my head in the clouds
I do not like thinking of you
I do not like feeling for you
I do not like you

I'm not good with words but I still try to string most of them together so I can woo you with my overrated and generic metaphors,
So I can tell you how beautiful you are
Yes, you are beautiful whether you believe it or not
Now,this is pathetic excuse for a poem has no proper rhyme for I made haste when I wrote this piece
You were feeling down and I wanted to tell you this:
I know the future seems so terribly far away when you think of all the beauty and goodness it might bring
And so close when you feel like the days and the years that are to come would eventually only push you further to the precipice, push you down deeper the pits of rock bottom
But pretty baby, don't you worry
Believe me when I say that everything will eventually fall in place,you will someday feel peace
Don't fret,don't let the black hole inside consume you
They were right when they said you should live for the now,for the memories you make are what make each day count
So,sweet summer child don't worry about the future and all the beauty and chaos it might bring
For you have me and the "in between"
There are poems you haven't written
Books you're yet to read
Places you haven't lost and found yourself in
Bridges left to burn and wounds yet to heal
I know that all we are right now are our parent's mistakes and disappointments but like that one poem said we shall greet the break of day and bloom despite defeating elements
Especially you,you are a wild flower
Rare and beautiful, not to be tamed
Not like the Little Prince's rose for you don't need to belong to anyone
You are strong and able
And if I could, I would live a thousand artists' lives just so that in every lifetime I could paint your eyes,your beautiful eyes and how they light up and warm hearts when you smile,
So that I could compose songs and ballads of how graceful you are despite your awkwardness and silliness in all things,
So that I could write about you and how you deserve the world and how your body is composed of wonders, wonders one can only admire from afar because an artwork like you is not meant to be touched by ***** and foul onlookers