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jul Sep 19
as humans, we begin to dream of unrealistic fantasies while
sipping substances that
suffocate the train of thought.
in my mind's lines,
i write of the way your face was illuminated by the street light
and the way your knees bounced because of the cold,
and the way my inconsistent breaths fluttered into the stars that you have named yours.
this is reality,
and yet again, i was a fool for you;
for sitting beside you and letting
these fantasies consume me while i
craved a banana split blizzard
(with no chocolate)

and if by some chance, you are reading this,
i like you, and if unreciprocated,
you can blame it on the high.
yes, i guess, i do deserve this, you dont have to tell me twice.
jul Sep 12
why cant i stop thinking about you.
i wish i could hate you
but i cant
and memories flood my weary eyes

so ****.
  Aug 15 jul
Hey. I figured that “see ya never” is actually for real this time, but I get why you don’t wanna spend time with me anymore. I mean I wouldn’t want to either. But since I won’t have the opportunity to say this to you in person I’m gonna tell you now because this **** has been stuck in my head since that day I saw you at the skatepark and you ended whatever we had going on between us. I’m sorry. The **** I said that night was so ******* ****** and half the **** I didn’t mean at all. And I just want you to know that because I replayed that conversation in my head so many times, and every time I got more mad at myself for being such a ******* **** to you when you didn’t deserve it at all. I couldn’t sleep for a really really really long time because of it and I got hives and **** it was really bad and I’m sorry. I don’t know if it affected you as much as it did me but I can’t stop thinking about you and what you could of felt hearing the ****** up **** I said to you that night. I told you you ****** and you were a *****, but I was just as bad as you were I shouldn’t have been talking. And I didn’t mean what I said when I told you you couldn’t do **** by yourself. I don’t know why I said that. And that boy from nyc, I wouldn’t have seen him for a very very long time and when I would have I wouldn’t have done anything with him. I don’t like him in the way you thought I did at all. Him and I were never a thing. We were just friends, but I doubt you cared about that anyways since you stopped liking me and stuff. I think I told you how we were never suppose to happen either, and we weren’t. But I’m glad we did because I had a lot of fun with you and I’m glad “us” happened. I was just really really really upset that night and I wanted to throw something like that in your face but I take it back. I really do. And I said that you were just a boy and that I’d get over you. But you werent. You were my really really good friend and I was and am more upset that you ghosted me as a friend completely than how you just ended things out of no where. I was being very immature that night because I was hurt, and some of the things you said hurt me even more. And I’m not sure if you actually wanted me at your show that night, the weekend of your tour. I doubt you did since you hate me. But I wish I went to support you because at that time I still considered you as my best friend, I just thought you didn’t think of me as that. The reason I didn’t go was because I thought you hated me and you didn’t wanna see me and I didn’t want to ruin your night. I doubt you ******* cared if I went or not anyways. The reason I did all of this **** to you was because  I wanted you to feel the same pain I felt when you told me it wasn’t working. You ended things between us out of no where, and it just didn’t make sense to me at the time. I guess me doing the things I did and saying the things I said that night makes me just as cruel and corrupt as the people I’ve spoken about to you before, and that makes me really ******* sad. And I doubt you’ll read this whole thing, and I doubt you even care about me and what I have to say or even think about me anymore, and I doubt you’ll even answer this but hear me out. I’m sorry for everything I did and I wish I could go back and fix it so we could still be friends because I loved having you in my life. But that’s not a ******* thing and I can’t change the past. And I get why you never want to see me again but just know I’m sorry and that I’ve been thinking about this and you a lot because I’m an over thinker. You don’t have to forgive me. This isn’t a message begging for you to be my friend again. I just want you to know that I’m sorry for everything I did and I felt like I needed to tell you this and get it off my chest.
To a boy who broke my heart, to the boy I tore apart.
jul Jun 12
for example:
i can write
"make me yours"
and all of you would fall in love with three simple words,
repeating trivial words to yourself
because you feel that it is truly beautiful.

i am a poet because
"make me yours"
is not simply a sentence, or a demand, to you,  
but its the underlying tone of an ethereal love which you cannot describe
with three simple words, or even a hundred.

i am a poet because
you breathe my soul as if it were yours
in the wake of a new meaning.
simple or complex poems?
jul Jun 12
ive always loved the cold; felt relaxed in the cool breaths of the world and let her whisper lullabies to soften my racing thoughts. numb fingertips that prohibit me to write, and i can only think, but i dont try to exasperate myself, and instead i immerse myself in a reverie of summer nights to warm my arctic eyes. imagine if my presence was not present, and my words are erased; my significance is still the same, dont you think? i do not worry, dont worry, trust me, and all that i am, but its a food for thought, and my hunger is unsatisfied.

oh darling, you look beautiful tonight. your soulful lights are beginning to dim, i think its time you've replaced your batteries.
cielito lindo, im sorry for the fog, you must be on a high, but i dont blame you, will you let my lips wrap around that poisonous fix?

see the world through my eyes, and maybe you'll understand.
do not worry about me, but i cannot stop thinking. admiring this soul-forsaken world is a remedy. i am not contemplating suicide, to think of a world without one is natural, but i cannot leave it, but if i ever wrote a suicide note, i think i would admire beauty rather than express the sorrow that i have felt, or the pain, but rather try to remind myself that life is worth living. i would not apologize, or have my last words depict a side of me that i do not want to be seen. bathe in beauty.
  Jun 12 jul
I want you to put me on your tongue and let me dissolve into you like the tiny white squares that turn those glossy hazel marbles into black holes and intense stares. I want you to kiss me and see negative colored rulers in the corner of your vision and I want you to have trouble making a decision between kissing me and observing me while I'm sitting on your chest and I want you to laugh like you did with your cherry colored lip curled over your childish grin over and over and over again and I want you to forget the conversation topic every time you close your eyes because the world inside of your mind is filled with blinking images that you can't quite explain aloud so you settle for little talks about Rosa Parks and Indian style kisses and how the ocean is the Earth's thing or the complexity of butterfly brains and whether or not they remember their caterpillar memories (they do). Describe to me the first time you saw your favorite color and what developed the affinity for it: yours, a glacier blue toy that resembled the ocean and mine, a lavender Easter dress that twirled when I spun. Tell me about your school crushes when you were four and what you got your clothespin moved to the sad face for and I'll write it all in ink on my knee caps because "God, we're such writers" and you'll check the clock in the gaps and search for tunes or lighters and I'll want time to slow down because the nights spent with you usually seem as though minutes are just a few seconds shy of sixty, which turns the little hand pretty quickly.
I want hours, weeks, decades, to analyze the freckles on your face or the pace at which you move your tongue and precisely how it tastes.
I want you to tell me that your brother would like me and about the mountains in Tennessee and maybe next time I'll try to stay awake, unless you want to listen to the way I breathe so fully when I dream.

When I close my eyes, I want to be able to see what you see.
I want you to keep burying the numb parts of you into the warm parts of me.
jul Jun 11
in dust, in graphite, i birth a new soul.
forget me not in the wake of a burning world.
in serenity, hear the collapse of my lungs
as fire erupts from drained eyes.
obliviously decaying, portraying disintegration.
ignorance is bliss, allow my mind to dismiss the possibility of
losing innocence
feign acceptance and deliver me from evil.
creation of an existence, resist the temptations of a luring abyss.
free myself from my puppeteer's love and disappear into
a state of mind where the meaning of life is refined.
breathe a sense of security in a world of fears.
bathe in the years of purity
for now my stained hands have touched true blue waters.
i live a life of regrets,
oppressed by despair and suppressed my affairs,
but acknowledgement is tarnished skin that i now will wear.
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