you are too good for me
far too much, far to precious
i'm callous and nothing like what i think i am
you are going to do good in this world
and i am just going home.

he may be the head-over-heels
this-time-it's-real
what-the-hell-do-i-feel
kind of in love with her;
he may be the lose-his-mind
without-her-shine
create-a-world-within-her-eyes
ki­nd of in love with her;
he may be the always-and-forever
nothing-better, scarlet-letter
kind of in love with her;
or maybe he's not.
who's to say?

i am not different
i am nothing like you
i am nothing but sorry
i am temporary but
i am in denial
i am listening and listening and listening
i am so many things
i am nineteen and
i am out of answers and
i am trying still.

our bodies were made for dirt and dust
to glimmer in those early morning sunbeams
and the colors that shine through crystals
to settle on shelves around the edges
of picture frames and trophies
to cradle seeds that will crack open
and reach for the sun
to get underneath fingernails
and be swept into dustpans
and reclaim the nature that being alive
makes us forget
we’ll be dirt and dust when we’re dead
so for now
just try to appreciate the bodies
that came before you

everything is temporary always
even if the marker
can’t be erased
the mirror can still
be broken.

we’ve been apart most moments so far
my throat scratches like a broken record
when i say i miss you
and when we pause in the hallway
almost leaving but wanting to stay
i remember why.

eu lhe adoro tanto quanto
o sol adora o mar
está chovendo mas
eu ainda posso ver vé-la brilhando
ela não é uma rival
ela nos assiste com amor
que mesma maneira
eu lhe assiste.