it's still too warm to wear a sweater
but i'm wearing yours anyway
because i'd rather be too hot
than be without your comfort

I don't regret the way I breathed in your heart,
Or the way you gently held my hand in the dark.

I don't regret how it felt that morning, glowing with summers heat,
When we met in secret to feel our hearts beat.

That was the last time it felt real, and no I don't regret,
I just hope no matter where we are, that we don't forget.

You told me you wanted to kiss me,
As the river rushed and my flesh was no longer frozen,
My heart skipped and ran as I finally felt chosen.

But our lips never met and I don't regret,
How you told me that evening you were scared and you weren't ready yet.

I know what that meant, and I don't have some false hope,
But I won't regret and I don't have to cope.

You told me that you loved me,
But just as a friend.
Hey darling I understand, we don't have to pretend.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be,
But I loved every moment that I spent with you,
I know how you feel, I was scared out of my mind too.

I don't regret the way we awkwardly flirted,
Or the way it feels foolish looking back, your words bluntly blurted.

Honest and raw was our code of conduct,
I am messy and bleeding, who am I to instruct?

But regret? No, not for a moment.
I only hope that I still mean the world to you,
Just know that you mean the world to me too.

your external self has changed greatly,
but i will always know you.
you may feel your new friends and cigarettes
have changed you,
but you're still the same boy i know so well
even when you're high.

I always said you felt like home
not like the home i grew up in of course

not like the one where after school i found my dad
half asleep
half sober
half alive
on the couch, hating himself

i always said your eyes looked like the stars
and it was a little cliche
but the stars made me feel safe
because of the night my dad hit my mom
for the first time
And i sat on the roof and cried to them

I always said you were like my bedroom
the one i would lock myself in when i was scared
maybe thats why i locked myself in you
I wish you didnt lose the key

I deserve to breathe, I deserve to live,
But their calloused minds have nothing left to give.

"We have every right to fight for you"

Don't I have the right to fight for me too?

What you call a shield, feels like a sword.
What you think is best for me slices at this cord.
A cord now cut between you and I,
A silence that thickens the air inside.

I deserve to breathe, I deserve to live,
But they don't see all I have to give.

I am fighting a war that can't be won,
Time will set me free, on the run.
And all I want is to make them rage,
I scream for the freedom outside the cage.

I cannot breathe, stuck inside this cell,
My heart is breaking inside this shell.
You cut me off, you cut my soul,
You blocked the door to that which makes me whole.

I can't do this.
My locked up lungs have never breathed in bliss.

Smell of earth
Rugged brown
Taste the rain as it falls down
Rise and fall
Blue and green
Trace the clouds that paint the scene
Lift your eyes
Make no sound
Feel the stillness all around
Bow your head
Kiss the ground
This is where your heart is found

I hope you see yourself in the things that I do,
I hope you see my eyes staring back at you.

Don't think for a moment that I didn't put you there,
Don't think for a moment that I don't care.

Because I do.
I do.
I do.
I do.
Words you never said to me, words she always said to you.

I hope one day you hear my name,
And watch my art scream my pain.
I hope you see my story told,
Finally free, your words getting old.

I have written you down, I have moved you through my feet,
I have sung you out loud, and I have saved you a seat.

So please, come and watch my display,
My performance of grief, I am the author of this play.
This dance, this art that holds your name,
I hope that you see you too, because I do the same.

''Girls only like *******.''
I grimace at those words
as I happily take the compliments
laced with sexuality
bestowed upon me by some guy with good cheekbones,
who practices his lines.
I hate that he gives me butterflies.

I try and replicate that fluttering feeling
with the guy who's nervously stumbling over
the dorky love letters from his heart.
I know he's sincere,
unpractised,
And I'm made guilty for cringing at his face.
(It's slimy
I'm sorry.)

But you were awkward
and nervous
and oh so uncalm
you had a little extra weight and a grin you despise
and I love,
and your words were all scribbled on notebook paper
with lines covering every time you
underestimated the blue in my eyes
(you needed better ways to describe.)
But you gave me more than butterflies
I was in love with the ''nice guy''
so why'd you leave my side?