This always happens.
Chew me up and spit me out, right?
I want to listen to “Smother” by Daughter and think about how much life *****,
and think about you, and think about what we could have—should have—been.
I want to show you how good of a person I am,
I want to make you see how well I would treat you,
were you mine to treat.
Over before it began.
Will we still go on that date as previously discussed?
It’s okay to say no, I’ve heard it all before
“You’re really nice, but…”
“I just don’t wanna ruin our friendship…”
“I’m not really looking for anything right now…”
And every time I nod and smile,
and lie through my teeth and say that everything is fine.

But it’s not fine, and I want you.
I want you to myself.
I want to walk into a room with you,
I want people to recognize you as mine, and me as yours.
I want to spend long Sunday afternoons with you, reading in bed.
I want to feel your skin against mine, feel your lips against mine.
I want to make love (even though I hate that phrase).
I want to share with you my wildest hopes and dreams,
and I want to know everything about you.

What makes you happiest.
When you’re the most content.
What scares you.
Your favorite ice cream flavor.
All of it, every detail.
I want to become privy to every part,
and when I see you walking towards me from a distance,
I can think to myself, “I really know him. I really love him.”

But this shall not be so.
I am not the right one for you,
just like I am not the right one for so many others.
You say it isn’t personal, but it obviously is.
It’s always personal.
So I will move on with my day,
and try not to think about you all throughout my ****** philosophy class.
And I will fail.
And you will be oblivious.
And we will go on as two parts of a puzzle that don’t go together.
And pretend that we’re friends but never speak.
And eventually lose contact all together.
And hopefully we’ll both find happiness somewhere else.
But even if we do, you will matter to me right now.
And I will shamefully lie awake in bed at night,
and dream of you being there next to me,
until I begin to drift off and realize
I’m warm enough on my own.

What if you'd never talked to me and I'd never liked you and you'd never asked me out and we'd never sneaked behind my parent's back and we'd never got in a fight and we'd never missed each other and we'd never talked more and we'd never hung out more and we'd never wanted to be together every second and it'd never be the way it is?

I started to write a poem
That was so full of hate, and bile,
That it made me retch to re-read it.
That's not the way I am,
I won't be reduced to that.
You have done, what you had to do,
Nothing more.
I can't judge you for it.
I deleted that poisonous poem,
I won't start down that road.
I still care, I hope that will change,
I hope that you are okay,
I forgive you,
In the hope that someday
I can forgive myself.
It is not easy to write this,
I don't want to forgive,
And I don't want to let you go,
But I will, and I must.

Oh, goodbye,
Goodbye,
You were everything, and now we're nothing.
I will miss you.

I will miss you.

It's what I wanted
it's what I asked for
Why did all this time
have to go and pass for

It's you that's always
invading my mind
You show up on my lips
only time to time

Eyes so deep
You wear your feelings like a shield
Then once again you touch me
and I feel something so real

It's like nothing ever happened
you look right past me
Do you know how I feel?
Why don't you ever ask me?

Now I want you to tell me
what you are between the lines
You don't have to say forever
just let me in sometimes.

I wrote a lot of poems
about a lot of people
and many of those poems
mentioned love.

but I like to think that you're
the one who'll read them when
you're eighty, sitting beside
me in your chair.

I like to imagine your hair
as it turns grey,
your frown lines and wrinkles
of your smiles and your worries
and the sound of your laugh
that has not changed with the years,
and the way you'd wipe away my tears
of both pain and joy.

I like to think of rings and kisses
and your hands on mine,
of you asleep next to me on
winter nights, of newspapers
and car rides and Christmasses
and all those things that make
a life together.


I wrote a lot of poems
about a lot of people
and many of those poems
mentioned love,


but I like to think my best ones
are about you.

(i picked up
all your old habits,
and i'm not
letting them
go)

I sit here watching you intently
Hoping that you may graze me gently
And wish that I could have the courage
To speak a work but cannot manage
To face the fear of you refusing
And find myself forever losing
The battle between those two hearts
And then the ocean of salt starts
And flows past your always glazed eyes
And still a piece of me always dies
When you wander past without a glance
And leave me in an incurable trance
For you hold up the heaven above my earth
As I sink forever in my unworth.