We are not children,
Yet we're still not fully grown.
****, how our finger tips can wonder.
They've traced freckles
we never knew existed–
explored galaxies within
the palms of our hands.
I understand,
that sometimes you won't;
I'm still making
mistakes of my own.
I've learned there is no I in Team,
but there  is a U in Us.
I don't want to be a part of an Us
without you.
The adventure we
accept as love is infinite,
much like the universe.

You're back.

But I'm not really here anymore.

She told you she was sad and you told her she was the sun. Warm rays penetrating your skin making you feel happy and free, but when the sun stopped shinning so did you

She told you she stopped eating and you told her she was a flower. Unique and beautiful in the most imperfect way, but when the flower wilted away so did you

She told you she cut and you told her she was a river. Winding and twisting creating deep cannons all over the earth, but when her rivers over flooded you drowned in them

She told you in her note she was sorry and you wanted to tell her she was the sunset. Breath taking and colorful, never being able to see her true beauty, but this time the sun set and never rose again.

I wanted it to be you
I wanted it to be you so badly
but I am not Alice
and this is not my wonderland

j.f

A hopeless romantic:
what I used to be.
Dreams consisted of warm blankets
and long walks by the sea.

Childish whims of
beautiful song and prose,
awaiting for the one
to spare me a rose.

With time and patience,
I waited, and waited,
only to find a four letter word  
irrationally overrated.

Today, I'm still waiting,
though not as determined.
For I have learned,
four letters should not be burdened.

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)