we are products of our pasts
creators of our futures
and maybe that's why they say that history repeats itself.

i am stuck in a bottle of windex,
that disguised itself as kool aid
my body smashed between plastic
you pull me out but i crave the fumes
i want to go back
i want to be with you
i want to go back
i want to be with you
i want to be with-
a love we made from scratch
i don't know what i want
i am sandwiched between the past and the future
there is no way out because
i cannot escape the present for the life of me.

there is a magic
in watching you
pack up your things
knowing that next time
you'll unpack them with me.

you were lightning
and i was always behind.

Being with you is like the game we would play in 8th grade science class
(everyone would hold hands in a circle to see how long they could stand the electricity flowing through their veins)

But we are magnets that bent over backwards to be pressed against each other

If you are the lightning
reaching
burning through silence
brilliant electricity
(our hearts thunder in the distance,
1 second behind)

I am the key on the kite

Our class
Benjamin Franklin
You
Discovered

the law of attraction
the law of never letting go.

hello, poetry.
the most bipolar part about me.

there are days when you burst into my room uninvited, 
i wonder if my rhymes are that rude, too.

hello, poetry.

there are moments when you lay an understanding hand on my shoulder,
i wonder if my words have ever been the comfort food for a melanchoy mind.

hello, poetry.

sometimes you go streaking across the traffic of my brain
and i laugh when i think that these stanzas are slaves to my nakedness as well

you 
hide under my bed
leave flowers on the doorstep
break my windows
steal all of my clothes
make it impossible to sleep
breathe on my neck
mend my mind, while
irritating the places that are already wounded

but i can't live without you.

hello, poetry.