**** those people who said it only gets better.
They lied to us.
They lied to you and me
and all the other kids with tear soaked cheeks
and problems with substances/self harm/depression.

It gets better
but its got to get bad first.

It took me years of tears to realize
that things will get better.
They will.
They may get worse first,
they may stay the same for a while,
they may get better and return ten times worse
but they will get better.
They have to.

I fell in love with you the moment I met you.
And many times since then.

I remember when I first met you.
I handed the mic to you
and you nervously introduced yourself.

I fell in love with your words first,
and you second.

I fell in love with the way they rolled of your lips
and caused my heart to palpitate.

I fell in love with the way you smile
and how it caused my lips to curl into one of my own.

I fell in love with the way your words eased my anxiety away to nothing
and I how I was able to think around you.

I fell in love with you
and I have been continuing to do so every time
I hear your voice,
read your words,
or see your face.

I came to you at night,
in my dreams,
but I awoke with cold feet
and an ache in my heart.

In my mind I brought you carnations and you brought me
love.

You said you never wanted to save me,
but gasping for air
I swear that's what you tried to do.

I tried to hide the smile behind my lips
as your hand lost its grip on my own.
Falling, I covered my mouth
so as to stifle the laughter.

What could be more perfect than rain?
What could be more beautiful?

It falls and brings life to wherever it falls.
It breathes life into this lifeless landscape
and allows it to breathe.

Rain is a gift from God
and I am sorry for those
who do not drop to their knees
and thank their god for rain.
Thank nature for rain,
thank the universe,
but you have to be thankful.

Rain refreshes,
and it soothes
and it calms
and I cannot think of anything
more perfect than the rain.

April showers bring May flowers
and that is beautiful.

Everything about you is wonderful to me.
Everything.
I want to know everything about you,
I want to know what the kids called you in 4th grade on the playground
I want to know who your first boyfriend was and what your dad wanted to do when he broke your heart
I want to know who your favorite 80's synthopop band is
I want to know what you think of when you wake up at 4:26 in the morning with a stiff neck
I want to know what color you wish your softest skirt was
and I want to buy it for you.
I want to pick every single flower on earth and fill your arms with them.

I want to hear your voice when you're sick in bed
and I want to know what kind of tea to bring you
I want to know what movie you watch when you can't do it anymore
because that boy in your history class wouldn't stop calling you that word and ******* it you are not that word but this movie makes you feel better and it always has (it did in 4th grade when they called you that name on the playground)

I want to know which side of your face you prefer to have photographed
I want to know who you pray for
and if you think anybody is listening.

I want to know what your mother wanted to name you before your father convinced her otherwise because "Honey, do you really want our daughter to grow up being called that and have her know that we are responsible?"

I want to know if you like the feel of cold hardwood floor on your feet in the morning or the feel of carpet when you first take your rain boots and socks off after stomping puddles.

******* it, I want to know everything about you
so I can love every single one of those things with an intensity
the devout Christian envies.

Breathe deeply
and lengthily
so as to avoid
becoming light headed.

You are so beautiful to me
and I want you to want me
as I want you.
I want you to read these words
the way I read the ones you write about
a boy better than me.