if you can hold her hand
without feeling torn at the idea that
one day, you may never feel its warmth again,
then you are not in love with her

do not keep muttering worn-out
i-love-you's
under your breath
just to fill the empty spaces in the air
even if they no longer beat with passion,
do not try to explain the thousands of reasons
why you love her
if you don't

because if you can live with the thought
of her name being engraved in
someone else's mind,
her fingers running through someone else's hair,
the thought of those beautiful words
whispered into lips that don't belong to you
then you have never loved her, even for a second

and the bitter fragments
of the love she gave away
were never worthy to
belong to you

People write poetry,
to clear their guilty souls.
To try and find hope,
in a world that's so cold.

They spill out their heart.
They spill out their soul,
in hopes that they find
some glistening gold.

Some form of release,
to put their worries to bed.
find the light in the tunnel
through all the crap they've been fed.

But not I.

The reason I write,
is all but too clear.
I write because I live,
and ill write until I disappear.

but everyone kisses
the wrong person
once in a while.
(sjb)

he likes neck kisses and being called "sweetheart."
he drinks milk when he eats peanut butter,
offer to pour it for him.
he loves pugs and his dog, ******.
if you're not best friends with ****** by the first month,
you're doing something wrong.
when he tells you you're beautiful,
it is easier to just agree.
when he takes you home,
allow plenty of time to say goodnight (he takes forever).
he hates crunchy peanut butter.  
he'll give you his jackets and hug you until you stop crying.
if you watch lord of the rings with him, bring kleenex.
know and understand star wars references or you're *******.
he is an incredible writer.
he'll buy you lots of things for christmas,
do not try to compensate.

if he isn't the best boyfriend you've ever had,
you're not giving him enough credit.
love him, he deserves it.

and i kinda hope you never exist,
because i'm not done loving him yet
and i don't think i ever will be.

i was told i could be anything,
so i chose to be a feminist
because
when i suggested my father help with the laundry,
my mother told me i was crazy.
because
meghan tranior's "all about that bass"
is telling bigger girls to be comfortable in their own skin
because skinny girls already do, right?
because
i'd like to make as much as my male coworkers.
because
i was laughed at for wanting to be a doctor instead of a housewife.
because
people look at me strange when i say i don't want kids.
because
when i gave a speech about feminism in my english class,
i was called a man-hater.
because
"my shoulders distract the boy's education".
because
my mom shouldn't have to worry
about what goes in my drink at concerts.

i will be a feminist until
i can tell my boyfriend
"no babe, i'd rather watch the movie"
and i am not told
"you're depriving him of his needs".
until
my body is my body.
until
i no longer have to carry pepper spray on a keychain.
until
women in foreign countries can vote and drive.
until
woman means human.
until
we understand **** culture
and feminism isn't just about women,
it's about humans.