she told me at lunch that maybe her phone had
decreased her attention span,
because everything now seemed boring
and I want her to destroy that phone,
because I live when she is alive,
and these screens have taken us away,
made us focus up close to a false image
and we'll look up pictures of beautiful landscapes
forgetting that there's a landscape around us,
a person next to us.
We've become so focused on the blue light on
our phones that you haven't looked up to the
blue light of my eyes in the past thirty minutes,
"Helllllooooo?"
Why have we replaced who we are with these
technologies, you weren't born a robot
your blood is becoming electrical currents,
I can see the metal behind your ears-
plastic replacing bones,
our eyes are sensory latest edition LCD displays-
ears expensive hearing aids
and we still can't hear each other say, "I love you,"
these days are passing by and all we can do is
instagram them- we're so busy snapchatting
we forgot that these are our glory years,
we're all chronically lonely and maybe it's because
the person next to you says they care about you
but in the last thirty minutes they've looked at that phone more than you
and you can't help but wonder,
am I the only one that's awake?
we were born human and we should die human,
I am not a screen, my life isn't a profile,
I can't kiss you through a text message,
(no matter how hard eighth grade couples try)
and I refuse to let myself slip out of what it is that
makes me or you alive.

you're right
i will be okay:
but is that
my standard,
or the world's?

there's really no point in being sad about
what life gives you because you're not
life and you can't control it so when life
gives you lemons and no receipt, don't cry
about it because a market's not going to
take it back after it's been announced that
making bombs out of lemons is now possible
so take you life and your lemons and be
blown away with them.

so
many
people
have
seen
your
naked
anatomy
but
how
many
have
been
bless­ed
to
see
your
naked
soul

I really wish that you could be me.
I'm not being conceited here just read.
I wish that you could be me just so that you could have the chance to talk to you, so you could know the way the earth's tidal waves of motions play with your emotions and know when the steady ground that you walk on turns into rocky mountains on unexpected occasions and even though you are wearing flip flops, you still try to climb them.
I wish that you could be me just so that you could actually really see yourself.
See the way that pretty isn't just an adjective but a way a being and that you're being the only way you know how to be and pretty can't even begin to describe the way you are and so many have given up after pretty, so so pretty.
And I wish that you could be me so you could hear yourself sing, so you can hear the way your voice travels through those octaves like its on a summer road trip with no hurry, with a set destination but no time limit.
Your voice is like skipping through a meadow while doing hard drugs.
It's getting you high but so very peaceful at the same time
And I know you may not like your size but I think its great, you could fit in a suitcase, I could pack you up and take you to Maine, imagine all the adventures that we'll take.
I wish you could be me so you could see yourself when you're sad, so you can see that this body, your mind and your soul is some astral projection made in the cosmic heaven above and you may think that you deserve all this pain but you are made up of stardust and tiny planets, you have a whole universe inside of you and nobody deserves any pain.

I wish you could be me so you can see how much you mean to me.

*-c.a.

Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-