I was once lost
In the confines
Of my own soul

My heart inside out
And the world felt
Like it was
Every kind of backwards

But today
Will be different
I will put things
Rightside up
Whether you're here
Or not

And even if my heart falls
I will rise

And even if I lose my way
I will rise

And even if you blind me
I will rise

And though you don't love me

I will rise

I watch the airplane,
Thirty-thousand feet above,
Disappear
And reappear
Between the gentle folds
Of the 100-year-old glass
In my windowpane

A low angled light,
Shot from the distant sun,
Finds its way between my red curtains
And forces my thoughts to bloom.

Sometimes I think of what is in the world,
And then what's in it for me,
And the desire wrenches my heart.
And it hurts,
Oh God, it hurts.
Hurts so that I might cry out,
But I hold my tongue.

We’re all just so clever, so tragically unbalanced
But I woke with a new kind of obsessive disturbance
I’m finally shutting up with all the pretentious little dialogues
I’m not special, I’m detached, burn down the inner monologue

This scene’s dead, this scene’s gone
there’s no enlightenment in store
This love’s dead, this love’s gone
Just leave me to rot with futile lore

I don’t belong to meaningful existence
I’m never coming back despite your persistence
Highly stylized poseurs, highly addictive pills
So glamorous, my life’s work will be cheap thrills

You write your ******* witticisms and poems to adorn
Crushed between pointless inner battles, constantly torn
Encircled by the same ******* unsolvable your entire life
Ok, you’re brilliant, but I’m free, but I’m going out tonight

And every night I sleep, my conscious becomes softer
And every morning I wake, I wake with nothing more to offer
So stare up into the stars, direct your profound scenes
I used to waste so many nights planning, wondering what it all means

Micro manage feelings while I succumb to blurry haze
Controlled by a constant pounding beat, sensuality ablaze
You’re too curious, too poetic, and far too intense
I’m living in a world ruled only by impulse, only by decadence  

Your burdened search for originality
You’re brilliant, but I’m free.

Ever I have
One choice on my plate
Ever to taste
The cold dish I served to you

Mushroom stew
With nightshade tea
Stinging nettles
And salads of ivy

I'm guilty
I poisoned your glass
I poisoned our past
I murdered you

Don't fret just yet
You've had vengeance
Tenfold retribution
And never is it over

I will ever taste
The sweetest dessert
The icy plate
The meal best served cold

A dusty black
Drop of grit
Carries a payload
Of promise, weaving
To my lips and
Into my hopeful
Muscle and bone

Today I will
Accomplish
Today I will
Move

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
I will tell you I take the long way to class
in  a Chicago January
in the snow
on foot
just to finish dissecting Teenage Dream because you said that song reminds you of me
I will tell you I devote time out of my day solely to thinking about you  heart heavily.
Because I am always thinking about you, fair warning.
And if I let myself indulge a week's worth of thinking of you in one minute,
maybe I can study some for my midterm in the morning.

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
In those blindsiding instances of stark realization,
when I get a knee **** reaction putting on my scarf that still smells like fruit passion
because I made you wear it on the El platform to fend off a wind that round every corner could bend,
I will take out my blackberry, tear off my gloves, and tempt frost bite on the tips of my fingers
to send you a text that reads “I miss you.”

I won't tell you I love you when I don't.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don't.
Baby, I need not be insincere, I am not in love. Yet.
And it’s not you, and it’s not me. It is everyone else here.
Everyone else beating my brain in with cosmic signs
of Matt and Kim playing on the radio when they never play Matt and Kim on the radio.
Every poet pleading with me personally will flip their pages and I will be deemed defenseless against all odds.
I will tell you I love you, and I will mean it so fiercely
my chest will cave in upon itself thumping like a cartoon and creating a gooey mess of pink hearts.
Because you heart pink hearts.

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
I will tell you embedded in the endless, elusive scenes of whimsy that make up my insides,
that song by The Darkness will play over every loudspeaker in the Student Center
because you paused,
you looked at me,
and you said “I love you. I really love you.”

Into the middle of things, I drive myself daily, and get a bit lost…
Into the midst of your diamond-like words, I push a pebble, and suffer silence.
Into the heart of truth, I send a lie, and die a little.
Into the aura of your presence, I enter, and disappear a little.
Into the bubble of your reality, I squeeze in, and burst at the seams.
Into the light of your being, I step foot, and extinguish a little.
Into you, I am, and I’m gone completely.

The door went ‘ping’
and you walked in,
making jaws drop,
making hearts pop.

There’s no kernel of doubt
I’d like to take you out.
You’re a butter-kissed delight
and you’ll taste just right.

I’m sweet for you,
I’ll be a treat for you;
and if you’re not salty,
I won’t be faulty.

This is corny – I know that –
But it’ll be worth getting fat.
**** my diet and my waistline;
Let’s cheat death one tub at a time.

Love may be a four letter word but
today it sounds more like
your breath when we're close.
Today it looks more like
your hands endlessly moving
and fiddling with things.
Today it feels more like
your arms around me in the middle of June.
Today love is an overreaction
but I like it.
Today love is said more like
"You should stay here with me."
or "Do you want the rest of my drink?"
Today love smells more like
wet grass and guitar reverb
and air conditioned cars.
Today my head is more like
"I don't even know you."
but my heart is more like
"Who the hell cares?"
Today love is more like
you.