there are times i still feel your fingertips grazing my cheek from when you stared at me as we procrastinated our goodbye.
i feel as though when your touch finally forfeited and you left that day, some sort of bond was made.
some invisible string tied us together at the wrists, and on the days we don’t speak my fingers go numb.
i tap them and beg for my senses to wake on the tables and counters i pass, in a rhythm that matches no other beat but your heart.
i wonder if you lose feeling at the thought of me.

my body begs for forgiveness.
a break, a chance to run away
from this constant pain.
i'm exhausted.
maybe it's better off this way.
who knows who's looking for me.
who knows what they'll find,
i've been lost inside myself for years,
so they need to watch their strides.

I’ve been trying to convince myself that this isn’t the end
but as I pour my heart into this text I can’t bring myself to hit send,
the suffering of unsaid words shivers in my spine
and I’m left to lay in my bed and think of simpler times
when I could safely say you were mine and we were happy.
I wanted us to be happy but we were both struggling and still are,
in the same ways but differently.
It’s difficult to comprehend but
we both fight just to get out of bed and I can’t help but wonder
if we shared one instead of FaceTimed when we fell asleep,
it’d somehow be easier.
Or maybe we’d still be in this place,
only afraid to leave the house in fear we’d see each other’s face.
Instead I hear your name called when you’re nowhere to be seen
and am left with the reminders of what could have been.
You say I’m still yours and only need time to get your life in line
so I can safely call you mine
but there is no safety in silence when there are words left unsaid.
I wish I could reach through my speaker when you call
and say you’re feeling low, rip the weights from your chest
so we can let our worries go but I can’t and I’d still suffer.
Silently.
Secretly.
I keep saying this is fine but the words come out a lie
as I lay in my unwashed sheets and cry until I can’t breathe.
They burn my throat as I smoke another cigarette thinking
maybe if I smoke another something else can take my breath away
but when I fell for you
I found myself struggling to get the air into my tired lungs.
I already struggled to breathe from the bad habits and lack of sleep
but you changed the feeling in such a way
I convinced myself I was happy.
And you made me happy.
Blissful, content, I wanted to hold you
and realized life doesn’t have to end on a bad note,
but it came crashing back when the sun went down
and you started saying less when we’d call.
I know you never meant to hurt me,
it’s just the stresses from your head pounding relentlessly
until it bruised your heart too,
making it weary and unready for the love I tried to give.
I know I gave too much and there were limitations I tried to ignore
because I am the fool I am and still believe love is enough
but reality has finally set in that there are things we can’t control
that can make it so impossible to love from this far.
I want to better myself and my spending habits
so I can finally sleep in your bed,
but wants are different from possibilities and
until I know what’s going on
when I suddenly lose my sense of direction
and all hope of tomorrow
I don’t want you to have to try pulling me back into reality
when you aren’t so sure of what it is yourself.
So when you fall asleep tonight know you’re on my mind, too,
and I could never bring myself to hate you.
Know I hate the places we’re in and
the emptiness we feel even when others try
so desperately to fill those voids,
and the fact that love truly can’t stop it from devouring our minds.
I love you endlessly and I will never give up on that thought,
as you have shown me what I deserve,
and it’s not that it isn’t enough,
it’s just too far out of reach for me to accept.
You are the reason I get out of bed when I finally do
because despite the circumstances
I still want to believe that this isn’t the end.
That things could turn around tomorrow
and we will be happy
and not so scared
of giving each other
everything
without worry of our hearts
and our heads.

god ****** you are so beautiful, you're like a walking piece of art

and as someone who loves art
and has seen **** like van gogh's starry night in person
or monet's water lilies
or any of beth cavener's sculptures
you are so ******* unique
and breathtaking
I can't get over you
I never want to have to
you're as priceless as salvator mundi
and I feel so ******* lucky to have even gotten a glimpse of you

As I’m looking at you my heart is beating at a rate I can’t justify
I’m dreaming of a day where you’re here and I can call you mine
Where I can trace the tattoos on your arms and kiss the spot between your eyes
Where I can hold you through the night and lose track of the time

you cried last night.
i promised you that everything would be fine.
you looked at me with tears in your eyes
and assured me that everything was alright.
but i saw the pain you were struggling to hide
and watched your mask disappear from sight
as you told me,
"i've never wanted to kiss someone
and wanted to run away from them
at the
same time."

I used to love being alone
but now I'm starting to confuse it with loneliness.
I used to love having space
but now I'm lost in the atmosphere.
I keep eating cause I should,
but I still feel ******* empty.

And i can tell that i don’t cross your mind
When you’re the only thing that stays on mine,
But it’s fine, i’ll be alright, survive,
I know that it’s just how things have to be from time to time

I don’t want to cry. Please believe me, I’m trying
I can’t get emotions across without constantly whining
I don’t want to scare you.
I need to be near you.
You’re like oxygen, you see,
I can’t breathe without you next to me,
But now you’re gone.
This all feels so wrong.
Just last week i woke beside you,
Now this bed is empty and I can’t forget your smile.

I miss the way that you’d hold me.
I miss the way that you kiss my forehead,
And my nose.
and tickle my sides, but
Now my heartstrings are tackling blows.
I don’t know.
Maybe you really don’t need me
And what you need is for me to leave you alone.
But i dont want to go.
You gave me a home.
I was lost for so long,
Found myself in your arms--
Now i know it’s where i belong.
Even though you’re fighting the pain inside,
From the girl that broke your heart, and plagues your mind
And made you want to die

Please don’t cry
If this isn’t what you need
Believe me
I understand, i just want you to be happy.

I’ll never forget you.
I’ll always be grateful for you.
But if this is the way things have to be,
Then i guess I’ll be fine.
It’s alright.
Thank you for letting me be a part of your life
And until next time,
Know you that always have a place in my heart
And in my mind
And I love you.
But goodbye,
My aurora.

your fan sounds like rain on a window pane through the speaker on my phone as you’ve fallen asleep on video call for what could be the hundredth time, i’ve lost count of how many nights we’ve done this
since we were 16, we have done this, year after year
the sound does not bother me though, and i do not hang up
instead, i pretend you’re beside me as i listen to your breathing
it is steady, rhythmic
it seems that everything you do, you do beautifully, it’s so hard not to stare
you make music when you speak, a pattern in your syllables imprinting on my brain
you see, you make music for a living, but my favorite songs are the way you run your fingers through your hair instead of brushing it
the way your brows furrow when reading an email
how every time you put on a hat, it’s tilted slightly to your left
the fact that each time we kiss, you always peck my lips after and smile a toothy grin
when you laugh and your eyes crinkle up at the corners
your attention to detail, color coordination, aesthetics
how you always make sure to remind everyone you talk they should drink more water,
i love falling asleep listening to you
i listen to the music you make when you aren’t even trying

i long for the mornings i stir and hear those even breaths rolling over soft lips,
when we are lazily tangled up in one another
where i brush the hairs away from your eyes, though closed,
and count the faint freckles dotting your nose
for the moments of intimacy,
like the first few mornings that i whispered i love you,
countless times before i ever really told you i loved you
where i stare at those mocha eyes opening when you wake,
only for you to smile warmly and pull me closer
the intimacy of the sun peeking through the window,
and the security of your arms holding me tightly
you are my morning cup of coffee
you are just what i need to make it through the day
a week from now i’ll be by your side once more
i will trace your jawline as though i am preparing my mug,
wrap you in sheets of memory
drink in the sight of you in morning light
and take you for all that you offer

My dad would always warn me to be careful when falling in love;
I fall too quickly for my own good.

So on the days leading up to the moment you arrived,
I made sure I steadied my footing,
readying myself for the moment I would.
I could tell I was going to.
I wanted to be prepared.

But as I stood in that airport, my knees were already trembling.
It seemed as though the moment I saw you coming down that escalator,
I lost my footing.
All of a sudden everything around me had disappeared.
All at once, I was falling.

I wondered if skydiving rivaled that thrill, and the fear.
My heart never stopped pounding.

When we got back to the car,
I kept staring at you as though you'd vanish.
My mouth grew dry with dread.
I worried I would wake any moment and all of this would have been nothing but a dream.
But I didn't, and you remained.

We stepped into my room and everything blurred.
I heard nothing but the air rushing by me as I fell harder each moment.
I turned to you, begging for clarity, and was met with a kiss.
For a moment, I could see again.
I warned you I was petrified.
You held me.

I saw the pieces of me I had lost when falling in the past come hurtling towards me as I fell.
When I woke up to you, your chestnut irises were still closed,
yet your breathing stabilized my rugged heart rate.
I was completely unaware of where the ground was,
or how hard I'd hit it,
but I savored the sight as though it were still all just a dream.

Each and every moment with you,
I feared the outcome.
I prepared myself with every aching hour for the impact.
My breathing was so unsteady, I felt on the verge of collapsing.
I closed my eyes. I couldn't let myself see what was coming.

As we sat on my bed, and you held me in your arms,
you begged me to open up.
You insisted I open my eyes,
and I fought tears as our breathing synchronized.
I could see the ground now.
The panic clawed its way out of my heart, up my throat,
and I felt my body shake as the words finally spilled out.

I braced myself.
I winced, expecting the pain.
I had anticipated every bit of me to shatter.
I was ready for there to be nothing left of me to break.

But I didn't break.

I could tell the world around me was still again,
but I wasn't on the ground.
I was not broken.
I was pieced back together, carefully.

You kissed me, breathing into me the life I thought I'd given up.
I finally opened my eyes, and as my vision focused,
there sat every piece of me I thought I had thrown away for each and every heartbreak before.
The parts of me that I had lost so long ago, that I assumed nobody would miss or remember,
sat upright, polished, and presented like precious gems.
The feeling in my body returned,
and I turned to those perfect orbs in disbelief--

you caught me.

You never let me go.

It was then that I realized that all the while I had readied myself to fall,
I had already spent my life preparing my heart for you.

So when my dad reminds me to be careful this time, I'll let him know:

I was, but I never needed to be.
You were right here all along,
waiting to catch me.

the gallon of arizona green tea that you only drank a fraction of.
the salt and pepper potato chips you meant to eat, but only did so in the dream i had last night.
the unmade bed that was still unmade when you flew back home, the one i still cannot bring myself to make.
the dyed green hairs i keep finding around the house.
the way you always pronounced 'mosquito' as 'mosk-it-toe' on purpose, and how you pronounced my cat's name 'sullumun' instead of 'solomon' on accident.
the partially closed closet door from the morning i drove you to the airport.
the faint smell of your sweat on my pillow left because of your hyperhidrosis.
the flannel you wore and the longsleeve shirt you doused in your aftershave, that is three sizes too big for me to realistically wear.
the empty taco bell cups in my car from your fourth day here.
the empty shopping bags from our impromptu mall trip.
the polaroids you really wanted to keep, but we couldn't find when you packed.
the pieces of you that you never meant for me to keep that i keep piecing together as though, like an alchemist, i could make you appear again though i cannot, and you are not here, you are gone.

the wind is howling, untamed aggression singing tirelessly.
distance is relentless.
it begs and screams to be acknowledged, until the day it is pardoned and we meet.
the howling ceases.
all at once it is calm, the now softened breeze humming sweetly its truest intentions.
your fingertips graze my face as gently as a sunrise, i can hear the morning doves as you whisper my name. the light you emit convinces me that all this dark was only temporary.
but as your journey back to new york ensues and i can do nothing but watch you disappear, the world around me dims. the sun sets, and i am once more met with the wind.
your scent haunts my pillows like a ghost. it caresses my face when i do my best to rest, it comes out of seemingly nowhere and i am met with thoughts of yesterday.
all at once the winds are roaring again, beckoning the inevitable world of darkness i had momentarily forgotten.
i am swallowed in their turmoil, straining my eyes for the comfort of your light.
but the sun is no longer in my sights.
this wind continues to howl, still as angry as can be, and i beg that i might stumble into the sun again. i cling to the shirts you left as though your body remains inside.
i cling to the memories of day, and when you were mine.

so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.

Some nights,
I think the few extra bites I take are helping me get better.

Some nights,
I look at the clock and realize it's already four in the morning and I'm nowhere near tired,
so I smoke another cigarette.

Some nights,
I wish that instead of lying in my empty bed,
I was lying in yours.

Some nights,
I allow myself to accept that I am not what you need,
and therefore,
I will not be yours.

Some nights,
I finally do sleep,
and I dream that I am everything you need,
and I wake up next to you,
and it's more than just a quick goodbye.

Some nights,
I think I'm better off alone.

Some nights,
I wonder if I will ever get out of this rut that I have been stuck in,
for however many years it has been,
and finally be good enough for someone.

Some nights,
I finally start to convince myself that I was good enough all along,
and maybe you were never enough
for me.

I dropped out of college one month in.

I quit two jobs over text.

I only retrieved half of my belongings after moving out of my parents house.

My library card was cancelled because I never returned the DVD I rented, because I never watched it.

My exes all still have at least two articles of my clothing because I told them I'd come get them. I intended to. I just never got around to it.

I started to write a suicide note.
I just never knew how to
end
it.

as I lie awake beside you,
and you allow sleep to qualm your stresses from the day,
I'm suddenly very aware of the pillow underneath my head
and note how it feels nothing like my head on your chest.
I do not mind the firmness of your muscles,
or the heartbeat that echoes beneath my ear.
your warmth does what this overpriced spaceheater never could,
but still I keep my distance.
fear of getting too close almost rivals claustrophobia, in a sense.
I long to overcome the worries of having nowhere to go but your arms,
but I fear everything may crumble should I try to overcome it.
I do not want to push.
the walls are closing in on you,
and you insist I stay away.
I would take the risks and hold you closer
but I fear my arms would be too reminiscent of the world swallowing you.
i do not want to panic.
I do not want you to push back.
so I keep my distance.
so I lie awake beside you,
cursing my pillow for not feeling like your chest.
I worry the space between us under covers is not enough,
and if the couch is a better home for my worry.
you deserve the bed to yourself tonight.
though this room is vast and I cannot fight the chill this space heater can never seem to pummel,
I know I should not get too close.
while my fear is being alone,
that is what you long to be.

I
used
to
cut
when
I
would
disconnect,

but
now
I
think
I'm
hurting
you
instead.

I am a human being
I am a human being
I am a human being
I am honest
I am strong
I am beautiful
I can be friends with whoever I want
I can protect myself
I can defend myself
The world is not out to get me
I am me
I am my own person
I do not exist at the expense of others
MY life choices should not control someone else's
Someone else's life should not control mine
I am not property
I am allowed to roam
I am allowed to be depressed for no reason
I am allowed to be happy for no reason other than I am happy
I will not cheat
I will not lie
I have never cheated
I have never lied in that matter
I never will
I am trustworthy
I am not my mother
I am not my father
I am not my past
I am honest
I am careful
I am hushed
I am scared
I am in love, and it terrifies me
Love controls me
Love tells me to not have friends
Love tells me I cannot stray
I cannot be by myself
I am not allowed to talk to anyone it doesn't know
I am not allowed to talk to anyone it does know
I have restrictions
MY love is bold
MY love is loud
It does not care what it does
It only wants to exist alone
So when my love exists
I do not

The stars line the skyline,
and the moon lies beside me.
It's not often the sun and the moon intertwine.
It seems we have finally crossed paths;
You call me your sunrise, and you are my moon.
After countless years we have finally met and while astronomy says it is meant to be brief,
I'm begging for a miracle and for the chance of an eclipse.
And while it could end the world should it last too long,
We'd get what we've been asking for.
To spend every moment of the rest of our lives,
together.

You held my hand as I showed you my deepest of scars,
and I held yours as you did the same.
We each held the moment as though it were to die should we release it.
And because of your grasp, I knew it was a moment worth keeping.

Disheveled and groggy, I wake to your smile as you calmly run your hand over your face.
Tired eyes meet mine and I welcome you.
I grasp my pillow when I am urged to hold you;
You are not mine.
Your eyes are focused on your phone and impulse begs me to take it,
throw it to the side,
and kiss you.
It beckons me to distract you from the hectic that has been your recent days.
I clench my pillow.
You turn your attention to me and ask what the matter is.
The anger dissipates from your clouded eyes when landing on me.
As dim as the room is, it reminds me of moonlight.
Soft, embracing.
Instead of responding, I trace the flames on your right forearm.
In this moment, I am warm.
You do not further in asking, instead you lean your head against mine and let out an exasperated sigh.
My free hand clenches my pillow.
Inside I am imploring,
"I want to love you how she never could.
"I want to love you purely.
"I want to love you wholesome."
Instead, I softly press my lips against the tattoo I was tracing.
Your fingers loosely find their way to mine, and we lay.
Quietly,
Comfortably.
I recite the moment I kiss your lips.
I plan it, step by step.
Perfectly.
Doubt drowns me out and while our lips are mere inches apart,
this is not the moment I will close the gap.
I instead bring my eyes to yours and scream every emotion I am feeling.
You grin softly at me and lay your head down, closing your eyes.
I lazily drape an arm across your chest and you drift off with an arm around me.
As you drift away to the sleep you **** well deserve,
I whisper all of the things I'd never tell
you
while you
were
awake.

We are sitting in your car, and we are quiet.
The sun has set and the only illumination is the streetlights of the city I've told you I wanted to show you since the day we met.
For once, we are not holding hands.
Three hours prior we were staring at one another across the top of a table at Qdoba and you assured me things were working out. You assured me that we could continue as we were. This wasn't goodbye.
I assured me you weren't forcing those words, yet three hours later, as we are leaving the city I never got to show you, you are not looking at me.
The day before I would not hesitate to say I love you.
The day before, I would not doubt your touch.
The day before, I explained to you that I do not say "goodbye" when planning to see someone again. "Goodbye" is too permanent a term, "goodbye" is when you can't promise you'll come back.
Now, we are sitting in my basement and you lie on the couch.
I am sitting on the floor.
You're looking at your phone as I look for something to watch on the TV, and you do not seem to care what.
I look for something for you.
As it plays and you watch, I watch how quickly we are fading.
My heart yearns to show to you that I believe we are worth this, but just like the sun faded from the sky and we were overcome by the night sky,
it seemed the light had faded from your eyes and you no longer saw the sky in mine.
I attempt to make my way beside you on the couch, and I soon realize that there's no longer room in your life for two.
I found myself memorizing each freckle on your face,
I found myself remembering the shades of blue your eyes kaleidoscope into when hit by the sun.
I found myself wondering just when they might see sun again,
as I could tell they no longer shone when looking at me.
It was then that I realized my heart was no longer full of love,
it was empty from the lack of reciprocation.
You looked at me as though I held the answers to everything you'd ever asked,
but I feel as though you quickly realized I was an issue, outdated.
You left about midnight.
I kissed you as you left, and I thanked you for coming.
You assured me it wasn't a problem.
I told you that I loved you,
and you told me you loved me, too.
You said "goodnight,"
and for the first time,
I said
*"goodbye."

I woke up with a sinking feeling,
one I couldn't place.
You quickly told me you were drowning,
and it didn't take long for me to realize that
we were sinking fast.
It was then that I realized it'd be
weeks before I saw your face.
As you abandoned ship,
it hit me that there was only one life jacket between us.
You apologized as you left.
You made it to shore as
I was lost in the undertow.

When I opened the Christmas gifts you got for me and vice versa.

On the way out to eat, you looked over your right shoulder just to observe traffic and all I could think about was how clear your eyes were from my view.

Every single time we say goodbye on the phone.

When we were sitting in Qdoba and you grabbed my hands, stared at me, smiled, and chuckled, insisting I was cute.

We were looking at the Waukesha skyline, and as we turned to get back to your car and escape the December cold, you tripped over the last standing Christmas tree that overlooked the city and I laughed hysterically.

When we raced across the Target parking lot and you beat me by a landslide, but you almost knocked a family over as you hardly stopped yourself from running into them.

The first time we ever skyped, my heart stopped as you looked at your whiteboard, doing homework. I still stop myself from saying it, every time you do.

When I was sitting in the passenger seat of your car in the Target parking lot, and you leaned over and kissed me. No warning. Just the kiss. You pulled back and smiled, forehead to forehead. Neither of us said one word.

When you spoke to me in nothing but Dance Gavin Dance lyrics for practically a whole day.

When you told me that this wasn't the relationship you thought it would be. I bit my tongue and held back tears.
I let you vent.
I let you disconnect.

Eyes closed as I lay,
I wish you were here to stay
yet fear envelopes my aching chest
and I worry that I'll never
rest beside you.
So I lie awake and count the breaths I take,
each one feeling wasted as
the only piece of you that lingers
is your
absence.

One.
When my mom found us asleep in my bed at 4am and screamed at you to 'Get the **** OUT of her house,' you texted me the very next morning and asked to see me as though it never even happened.

Two.
When my family went out of town without me for Thanksgiving, we stayed the whole day at your place and watched foreign movies and ate pasta.

Three.
On our first date, we sat in your car until 3am just... talking.

Four.
When my sister really wanted that new Pokemon game and my local Walmart sold out, you voluntarily drove almost 5 towns over just so she could get it because you knew I couldn't for her.

Five.
The first time we had ***, I cried. I still don't know why. You held me the whole time.

Six.
You woke me up with tickets to one of my favorite musicians of all time, for a tour I didn't even know about.

Seven.
When my dogs died, you stayed up with my the whole night as I cried. Both times.

Eight.
The first time you kissed me was at a gas pump at 10pm after I changed out of my blouse and into my hoodie.

Nine.
You took me to Buffalo Wild Wings even though you're a vegetarian. You even put up with my singing each 2008 Billboard Top 100 song as it played. I could tell you were embarrassed for me, but you laughed and kissed me anyway.

Ten.
When I told you I hadn't been to the art museum, you took me. When I told you I'd never been to Chipotle, you took me. When I told you I hadn't felt safe in years, you made me feel the safest I ever have.

Eleven.
After you kissed me the first time, you admitted the thing that "made" you kiss me was my purple-stained lips after I ate Superman ice cream while belting out songs terribly and sitting in the passenger seat of your car.

Twelve.
When I told you that you were a terrible tipper and I was a waitress, you immediately stopped tipping terribly.

Thirteen.
You left me a voicemail telling me you appreciated me, that you felt lucky to have me, and you claimed you didn't deserve me. While I disagree, I felt it. That was the first time I heard you say "I love you" before you had actually said the words "I love you."

We walked in together and from that moment on,
I watched the way your eyes traced each line in each portrait.
Arms stiffened in the pockets of your tight, but not too tight jeans,
I wondered what it would be like to kiss you.
In an art museum I'd never been to,
you were the most beautiful piece in the room.
I couldn't look away.
While most people take pictures of the paintings they love,
the sculptures that mesmerize them,
I turned my focus to those carolina blue eyes as they focused on the art.
I traced your jawline in my mind,
and I tried to count each hair in your ****** scruff.
I wondered who was responsible for such an incredible work,
who could have created such beauty,
and how I came so lucky to witness it.
At least a thousand other people were in the museum
yet I felt as though it was only you.
You seemingly perfect human being,
your elegantly disheveled hair,
your tired yet lively eyes.
I want to create something with you.
I want to make art so beautiful it radiates,
I want to love you so purely it never ends.
You stopped to get gas on the way back.
I stepped out of the car to take a mental picture of the way those iridescent lights hit your face,
and as I approached,
you kissed me.
This moment was a masterpiece,
the world should have counted my heartbeats.
We broke the kiss and headed home.
I held your hand the whole way.
I have loved art my entire life,
but have never come across
beauty as pure as
you.

Give me a reason to hate you.
Everyone's been pointing out flaws,
yet I'm banking on the maybe that you can prove them wrong.
I can't live in this back and forth cycle of
being all that you want,
and nothing at all.
I sit here listening to you sing and it fills up my empty,
but I guess I've been your nothing for a while now.
Now she's in your bed
and suddenly, I'm no longer in your head.
It seems I'm only on your mind
when there can be no one else instead.
People have stopped asking about you.
They used to be able to tell when I thought about you.
I think they still can.
Maybe, that's why they stopped asking.
They used to tell me to fly out tomorrow,
but now,
they're telling me I need to get laid.

Give me a reason to hate you.

I'm trying to find one now,
but when I look at you,
all I see is cocoa eyes.
And though diabetes runs in the family,
I think you're sugar free.
It's been **** near six months
and this bitter taste you've left hasn't faded,
even though you have.
It seems all signs that once pointed your direction
have turned away,
the last one being this ******* connection
that just won't fade.

I was in a car accident last month.

As the car spun, I saw your face.

I called to tell you that I loved you,

and you sent me to voicemail.

I'm contemplating cutting off ties with you.

This is how I fell for my ex.

This is how I fell for someone I thought I'd spend forever with.

This is how I made that connection,
and while our connection is so ******* strong
I need to find the static.
I might have to cut the line.
It's getting hard to face the fact there is white noise.

I don't think I love you.
But I think soon I might.

The moment I realized that you no longer loved me,
I started to notice the way the sun hit every hair on my knuckles.
It seemed that even though I was already going 65 miles an hour on a 50 mile an hour road,
it only felt as though I was going 30.
Everything around me started to slow down,
everything switched to high definition.
Usually, when I think of you,
everything else is a blur.
Usually when I think of you I see the silhouette of our future,
harsh against the doubts.
Now,
it's faint in comparison,
and I can't quite tell the difference.
You always told me that I was unlike any other girl.
But today you told me,
that you don't respond as often as you used to,
because everyone gets on your nerves.
And for me to "not be like" everyone
when suddenly I am everyone,
I realized you no longer love me.
When I got in the accident and you were the first person I called,
you sent me to voicemail.
When I told you that I loved you,
and you were the first and last person to cross my mind,
you told me you were busy.
Two weeks later and you never called back.
The idea of loving you turned from the reality it was and slid to just that-- an idea.
And yes,
I've always had a creative mind,
and yes,
I've always let my hopes get the best of me,
but you were the best of me.
You see, I've always seen you as beautiful,
some beautiful mistake.
I can't help wonder if all of this was a mistake.
When I call your name, you don't respond.
When I dream of you, it's not as clear as normal.
And yes, I said when I think of you,
usually things are a blur,
but I never thought this connection would get weak.
I guess...
I guess I thought wrong.
I always wanted to love you until there wasn't another tomorrow,
but now it seems my schedule's free;
I have no idea what's to come.
You always told me that I was unlike any other girl.
But now, I'm just like everyone else.
I'm just like *everyone.

It feels as though your eyes have stopped being a door,
as though I've stopped seeing your true intentions.
I love you incessantly still,
and as of recent,
I feel as though I'm staring into a mirror.
I only see myself in you.
That scares me,
as I'm not exactly the person I'd like to be.
Yet I always say to love yourself.
So maybe,
this is when I learn how.

I've always been
the impatient kind,
but for you,
I'd wait a lifetime.

My dresser drawer still smells like you.
That's why I always keep it closed.
I do not remember what you smell like,
I also don't remember what the hell is in that drawer.
That's close to meaningless considering
I somehow still remember your birthday,
and your middle name,
and the way you like your noodles cooked.
I hate that I have such a great memory
and I love when I forget,
because I worry you forget that I existed.
Like a bad dream you once had,
you've grown out of it.
I've grown out of you,
and maybe I've grown out of the shirt of yours
still sitting in that drawer.
I guess I do remember what's in that drawer.
I hate that I remember,
but love that I forgot
the way you smell,
because smelling is tasting,
and I could not bear to taste you once again.
The aftertaste of regret still lingers
when I hear her name.
I wonder if she tastes like me.
Like me,
the me I couldn't be.

I'm forever in awe with how you change my mood completely.
I've learned not to let people do this, not to let them affect my mood.
But *******, your laugh makes my heart swell, it fills up the empty.
And when you look at me, I feel it again.
I feel the floating, my feet are hardly touching the ground.
When you play me my favorite songs as a surprise,
I can hardly see because it's hard to keep my eyes open when I'm smiling so wide.
****,
all I need is your voice saying my name and my heart's a pro boxer,
my ribs are its punching bag, giving meaning to the words heartBEAT.
And *******, do I love you.
I have since day one, and I think I will forever.

You've got a twinkle in your eye,
one I really can't describe.
Yet your laugh shines so bright
it reminds me of the stars in the night sky.
Maybe it's because you feel so out of reach.
I could be asked to wish upon a star,
yet I'd think about you.
You're like my North Star.
You guide me.
I'm not sure what lies ahead,
and that alone is overwhelming most nights.
But my certainty clings to the fact that
I know my future will be bright,
so long as you stay in it.

When I was young, I was told that
"bad things happen at 3 a.m."
We were made to believe
that we were "not alone."
Now,
the scariest thing about being awake
when the Witching Hour strikes,
is knowing you're not here,
and I'm alone in this bed.

And when he kisses you,
you will not be surprised.
Although the timing was random,
you knew that he wanted to,
and you knew that he would.
His lips will part from yours,
he will smile,
and he will kiss you again.
It won't be soft like the first one.
You will not stop him.
You want this to mean nothing.
As his tongue traces your lips
you will retrace your thoughts,
wondering just when you will tell him
you don't know how to make love
without being in love,
but there is no love here.
When his hands begin to slide under your shirt,
you will not stop him.
You will begin to wonder if you are a tease.
You will begin to wonder how angry he will be,
you are not asking for ***, are you?
This is just a kiss,
A kiss is not consent.
You will realize your heart is racing.
You won't be able to tell what's moving faster,
him or your thoughts.
His hands will travel to your lower half,
and you will pull back from the kiss.
You will want to say something to his face,
but it's already heading downward.
You will not stop him.
Instead,
you will swallow and find yourself conflicted.
You want this to mean nothing.
As he begins to unbutton the denim,
you will realize your breathing is so sporadic
that you're getting lightheaded.
Your body is not getting excited in the way you want it to.
You want this to mean nothing.

It doesn't.

As his breath ghosts over your lower half,
through the remaining fabric,
you realize you chose the word ghost subconsciously
because you know this moment will haunt you.
And when he goes to pull the fabric away,
you will stop him.
He will be confused; he will be flustered.
He will ask you why,
and you will sit up, pull your pants on,
and tell him that you just can't.
He will be mad.
You will drive home with all the windows down,
you want to the wind to blow you away.
You will shower with cold water,
you want something else to send chills down your spine.
And when you finally lay down,
you will pull your blankets tight around you.
You want your body to regain its warmth,
its own warmth.
You want this to mean something,
it does.
You close your eyes,
and you will tell yourself:
"I make love to myself every day.
I wash my hair, I brush my teeth.
I drink water even though I hate it.
I sing along to songs in the car.
I watch the sky change colors at night.
I draw pictures of animals,
I take pictures of the sun.
I wake up.
God ******, I wake up.
I am my own best friend.
I am here, and I am not alone.
I have me.
This is all I will ever need,
and I mean it."

I've always heard people say that
"Love's not like the movies."
I feel like I've come to learn they're not wrong.
But they're not completely right.
I've come to learn that love
can feel just like those movies.
You feel stupid in love,
can trip over your own two feet,
blabber,
blush,
go on cheesy dates.
You can use every pick up line in the world,
and you can want to show them the world-
they can become your world.
You can stick with them through thick and thin,
You can do everything in your power to make them happy.
But I feel like the movies are wrong at some point.
They start out strong, just like love.
They start out honest,
they start out happy.
But the movies end up happy,
and love doesn't always end up happy.
Falling in love isn't always just like the movies.
Sometimes, there comes a point in love where there's a disconnect.
If you're lucky, it can realign.
But falling out of love doesn't realign.
Falling out of love isn't like the movies.
They don't show you that in movies,
falling out of love can be more than the tear-soaked pillows.
It can be more than the empty bottle of *****,
the drunken texts,
the going out to distract yourself.
No,
falling out of love can be worse.
Falling out of love isn't always the abrupt "it's over."
Falling out of love can be the day you go to get coffee, just like always, but your footsteps don't match up the way they did a week ago.
It can be turning down the favorite songs you shared instead of turning them up, turning down the emotions instead of letting them out.
Waking up to the back of their head.
Falling asleep in bed before they get there.
Going to work sooner than usual, because you need to get gas.
The conversations die.
Falling out of love can be staring at the credits when the movie's over, because neither are sure if you should end it.
Maybe the silence isn't thick enough.
Let the credits roll.
Don't hold their hand.
Don't turn it down.
Don't make a joke.
Falling out of love can be just as rough when you know they are and you can't do anything.
Falling out of love can be letting them pack without having a conversation about it.
So when you packed your things we didn't have to speak.
I remember the moment we kind of just looked at each other and knew.
You had this pitiful look in your eyes like you wanted to apologize, but there was nothing to say, you can't be sorry for feeling.
You can't be sorry for not feeling, I always told you not to apologize for what you couldn't control.
We didn't talk about where you were going.
We didn't talk about what was happening to our plans.
We didn't talk about the ring I saw you looking at one day when I glanced over your shoulder (I had that feeling you were being sneaky.)
We didn't talk.
So I sat in the car of the parking lot where you took me on our first date,
and stared at the spot in the grass where you laid down and stared at the clouds.
I didn't even get out of the car, and I reached for the handle time
after time
after time
after time
but never opened the door because you knew you wouldn't be there.
We didn't talk.
Falling out of love is how many nights I've spent sleeping on the couch because the bed smells like you.
Falling out of love is waking up for the third day in a row this week, forgetting you were gone.
Falling out of love isn't like the movies.
We didn't talk.
The credits have been over for a while now.
I turned the TV off and have been staring at the screen.
I wonder what song would play for the end credits of our movie.
Because I know it's over, I'm just waiting for them to roll.

I'm collecting dead wildflowers in a jar.
I've been watching their color fade,
wondering just how dull they
may grow at the end of each day.
I leave them in my windowsill
and let the sun drain them of sustenance.
It's quite interesting how easily
an item of livelihood
can lead to such tribulation.

I cannot help anticipating the day I
wake
beside you.
To hear your voice in reality
and not the speaker of my phone
would be
to wake to a dream,
instead of from one.
I've dreamt of you twice since Tuesday.
Days have blurred together,
as have the years we've known each other.
Almost like the way you edit your pictures;
these are soft,
beautiful,
emotional moments,
and I only wish I capture more.

As I watch you strum
away at your guitar,
I hope the only thing
you're playing is music.

I was sitting beside my best friend,
catching up with friends I hadn't seen since they graduated
when you sat down,
uninvited.
It didn't take a genius to tell
my throat was already closing
at the sight of you.
It had been over a year and a half since
I had last seen your face,
yet here I sat,
less than three feet from my ******.
I received two texts immediately.
one:
"I'm sorry."
From my best friend, who knew everything.
two:
"Are you okay?"
From my other best friend, who knew nothing,
but felt like something was wrong.
Wrong.
Suddenly, everything about that night felt wrong.
I choked on every sentence as it forced its way out of my suddenly tightening throat,
pretending that you were not there.
You see, I've spent so much time
pretending you were not there
that I had begun to wonder if maybe,
you were just a nightmare.
Yet here I sat staring my old friends in the eyes,
more focused than anticipated.
They could tell.
You see, it's a small town,
I didn't need to tell everyone what you did for them to find out.
I thought I was doing well until you spoke to me.
The first words you had directly spoken to me in almost
two and a half years.
"I knew I'd see you here."
I blocked out the rest.
I'd like to block you out, too,
but it seems recurring dreams,
nightmares,
are supposed to teach you something.
I'd like this to make sense,
but the only things I ever learned from you
was to never let my guard down again.
To not love that deeply,
deeply enough that I feel forced to do anything
to prove my love.
I learned I should never have to prove my love.
I should never have loved you.

When you sat across from me and spoke my way,
I couldn't help but think I'd never thought I was going to see you again.
I couldn't help but remember every sleepless night,
such as right now,
where I can't help lie awake in fear you somehow know
just what I am doing,
when I have had you blocked on facebook for three years.
But it's a small town.
Word travels, secrets are never truly safe.
Hushed confessions hop eardrum to eardrum
until they're nothing more than a subtle gasp.

When I finally pulled away from the restaurant,
I drove in so many circles that I got lost--
there are only five roads downtown.
When you finally pull away,
maybe I'll sleep for once--
there is only one of you,
and I wish there were
none.

The time is 2:38a.m.
I am staring at your picture,
and you are
perfect.
I wonder how you stumbled into my life,
how your warm cocoa eyes
were just enough to quench my sweet tooth.
The gentle waves in your hair,
permanently disheveled,
******* away without the wind that got them that way.
And this picture does not match your voice,
smooth,
my favorite drink.
The more I take in,
the lighter I feel,
drunk on love.
Drunk on you.
Growing up,
my mother was an alcoholic.
I always told myself I would never
fall victim to the bottle's grasp,
and it turns out I myself have a longing to get wasted--
so long as it means I'm wasting my time with you.
Each second with you feels like
every party I skipped out on.
Every moment with you feels like
I'm front row for my favorite band.
I will never forget your voice.
I will never forget the way you make me feel.
I will never forget your love,
I will never forget
you.

I dreamt that you said you're sorry.
You felt bad for being so indecisive,
you decided to be serious.
You flew in from Babylon.
The second you saw me,
you held me tight.
They say you never experience emotions
you've never felt in reality
in a dream,
but I'm trying to figure out when in my life
I felt so much love.
I'm trying to remember someone in my life
that I never wanted to let go of that badly.
I feel as though your arms around me
protected me from everything that ever could have happened.
There was an overflow of emotions as you kissed me,
and I swear on it,
I've never been kissed like that to know
who would have done it in reality.
The rest was a montage of us being in love.
The rest was all I've ever wanted.
But just as every dream ends,
I woke up.
I woke up smiling,
but I woke up alone.
I woke up emptier
than I've been in weeks.
I woke up without you
lying next to me.

you say you love me
yet it is small and it fades
my mind takes it
and it blows it up
tries to copy it, flip it, turn it
morph it into something bigger
it tries to change the hues
make it a little less cold
and maybe when it's done
it'll finally be what I've always thought love was supposed to be
magnificent
breathtaking
mesmerizing
like watching the solid blue of the sky turn
red
orange
yellow
pink
purple
we could be the picture perfect moment everyone wants to see
we could be perfect
let's be perfect before the sky goes

black.

black, void of color

black, void of love.

you say you love me
yet it is small and it fades
my mind takes it
and it blows it up
tries to copy it, flip it, turn it
morph it into something bigger
it tries to change the hues
make it a little less cold
but

i think the kaleidoscope is broken
it's not getting brighter anymore
i'm waiting for you to take my breath away
but instead i'm watching you drift away
like the colors of the sky all fading to a void black

like the colors of the sky,
soon you'll be gone,
too

I've traced the pillow's edge pretending it was your back for some time now,
acting as if you'd been lying beside me this whole time.
Whether sharing a bed with you is plausible or not is still a mystery to me.
I'd always imagined you to be a very warm person,
and I'd like not to have to get more blankets every night.
Lately, though, I'm beginning to think the opposite.
Maybe the bed being cold and empty
is a proper representation of your presence after all.

For the fourth time this week,
I drove down J imagining you were in the seat next to me,
Telling me how much of a nerd I was for mouthing the words to the song playing.
Bayside had always been our favorite band,
This ride did not change that.
I mouthed that you were my rock so long as I was yours and you just smiled.
I awake from my reverie.
Fourteen hours later and you’ve hardly spoken to me today.
It’s normal, though, as you’re a busy guy.
This is what I’ve been telling myself for three years.
I apologize to the voices in my head for your behaviour.
“We’ve talked about this,”
I say,
“We’re not going to try anything because of the distance.”
I sigh to myself and erase the message I’ve typed out for you.
It’s the fifth time I’ve done it this hour,
Seeing as you never responded to the last.
Last time you said you loved me was three days ago.
I told you I love you two hours ago and you called me a nerd.
“Nerd.”
I take a deep breath at the thought of the word.
I try to replace it with something different.
“Love.”
“Beautiful.”
Beautiful.
You’ve called me beautiful, right?
I scroll through our messages, looking for a time where you might have.
I only find you telling me my smile “kills” you.
Those words still make me melt, and I hate it.
I hate myself for loving you like this.
I hate myself for hating myself for loving you,
As I convince myself again,
For the hundredth time,
That you do.
I’ve been begging for a sign that you do.
One aside from your words.
“Actions speak louder than words,”
I remind myself,
And think back to an action.
What have you done?
I can’t help but wonder if the songs you wrote about me,
Loving me,
And us,
Were sent to another.
The lack of specification in said songs makes me swallow hard.
I think back to the night you told me you broke down with your friend.
You told him everything,
How you’ve loved me for years,
How you’ve never been able to do something about it.
How you tell me you date so many girls but always think of me.
How I believe you.
I’m scared, now.
Every day that we’re apart,
I can’t help but worry and doubt.
Am I just some... toy?
I can’t help wonder to myself if I am,
And I scroll through our messages.
I’m torturing myself, really.
As I scroll I reflect on the amount;
Thousands of messages collected over the past three years.
Three years--
Why would you spend that much time ‘toying’ with someone?
My heart swells,
As do tears.
I erase the message I’ve typed out to you.
That's the sixth time this hour.
The cycle will repeat until I fall asleep,
One last unsent message sitting in my palm.
I stare at the screen, waiting for my eyes to close.
They don't.
"active now"
it reads under your name.
I stare at your display picture.
For the fourth time this week, I pretend you’re staring back.
And for the... what was it?
I’ve lost count.
I pretend you’re listening and I turn off the screen.*
“Goodnight, I love you. Sweet dreams.”

Four years ago today you walked into my life.
Four years ago today, I had never known love.
Four years ago today, I had never known the fear of losing someone.
Four years ago today, I had never known the fear of staying with someone.
Four years ago today, I had never known the fear of being touched.
Four years ago today, I had never known you'd never let me say no.
Four years ago today, I had never known the nightmare of love.
Four years ago today, I was innocent.
Four years later, you showed me how to doubt.
Four years later and I still panic when asked about you.
Four years later, you're still haunting me.
Four years later and you still call my name.
Four years later and I'm still so scared.
Four years of this.
Four years.