My sister told me once,
"Everything between men
and women is a game"
I never understood
what she meant—until
I met you. Back and forth,
we play to see how far
we can push our boundaries
without breaking. Tonight
you can make me blush but
tomorrow you will be
up all night replaying
my hand on your chest.
They say love is our favorite game.
But baby, this was never about love.

This is about boredom,
this is entertainment.
This is a constant fight
for the upper-hand.
There are only two ways
this will end:

I.
I will fall a little in love with you.
Instead of a game, you will become
a puzzle. I'll start believing
your edges fit with mine and
I will hate myself for letting this happen again.
Because I have done this before,
I always feel too much for
people who do not feel anything
at all. I am the girl that's great
for marking time. Quick remarks,
a smirk, a laugh that is too loud—
I am neon lights and for now
you can't look away but eventually
your eyes will get tired and you
will fall in love with a girl
who looks like candlelight
.
II.
I will push you away.
I will hate you for making
me another stop on the way
to a destination
and you'll hate me for ruining
our game because this was supposed
to be fun, this was supposed to
be a boost to your ego,
a way to pass time.
But you will get over it
because girls like me are disposable
and you will replace me before
I get the chance to say I'm sorry.
I'm sorry we can't be friends that
flirt without me getting hurt I'm sorry
I can't be all fun and no commitment I'm sorry
you can't fall in love with me I'm sorry
my heart always gets in the way
You will be fine.
I won't be able to look at you.

So you see,
this is game of ours isn't fair.
You don't deserve to
feel like the bad guy
and I shouldn't let myself
get hurt again. I know I should
stop this before we get to far in but
baby, I couldn't quit
even if you asked me to.
Because my fear of losing,
my fear of getting hurt doesn't
matter because my hope,
that maybe you could be different,
that maybe you could fall in love
with me, is bigger than the fear
of losing a game.

While we play this back and forth,
please remember that
I'm not trying to get hurt.
I'm just a girl who tries
so hard and is never the one--
but would rather play and lose
then not play at all.

I know I don't make sense.
But the game is more fun
that way, isn't it?
Please just don't stop.
Smile at me,
touch me,
look at me,
that way you do—
our game
has only just begun.

I've always thought
Summer's breezes
Were sweet and beautiful

Until the breeze
That blew threw my heart
And took you with it

I held out my hand
Fell to my knees
For you
But you were gone
Before I had the chance

I'd fallen
Like a feather onto the ground
Soft and gentle
Into your arms
Where you caught me

But now
The summer breeze
That runs it's soft fingers
Through my soul
Takes it with you
And you disappear

I hadn't realized
How much of you
Was my heart
Until I realized


                                I miss my heart

I used to bury myself in huge jackets.
I'd mope about and hate my curvy body,
hate the way my lips puffed,
my long hair, the way I was soft all over,
the way I was expected to shave
everything but my face.

I used to hate makeup and dresses,
girly movies and shoes and bobby pins.
I hated boybands. I hated pink things.
It took me a long time to realize that
I didn't actually hate these things.
I hated women.

Femininity was lesser. I was not good enough
because of my two X chromosomes,
because of my *****, because of my period.
I was weaker. I was stupider. I was
statistically less likely to succeed,
less likely to be important,
less likely to be loved.

These things weren't right. They were never true.
But it didn't matter, because nine-year-old me
believed them. My opinion didn't start to change
until I was thirteen and I wore a pretty dress
as a character in a home movie we were making
and I walked down the stairs and my friends
whispered whoa.

I began to understand then the power I had.
As a girl I was never lesser. I was never weaker.
Maybe physically, but that was more my personality,
and all those lies I'd told myself about success
about my importance about love
I began to reconsider.
I thought hey wait hold on
this can't be right, I'm not stupid, I'm not weak,
I'm not ugly and I'm not fat
and I'm not any of these things because
I'm a girl.

When I started to see myself as worthy of
other peoples' love, I realized I should love myself.
I don't hide my femininity away in huge jackets anymore.
I don't walk down the street fearful
of the people walking past who seem stronger.
Because in my lipstick and my cute heels,
I am in total control.

Love is not four letters put together.
It’s you and me laying underneath the night sky
on a blanket too small to fit both of us.
It’s me wanting your eyes more than
any of the stars above us.
Love is not the words found on our lips.
It’s the silence I found your heart in at 3 am.
It’s the silence you found mine in too.
Love doesn’t live inside our hearts.
It’s carved into our bones.
It itches in our fingers.
Love is what keeps the pieces inside of me
together when I feel your hand brush mine.
And on the days that leave you at your weakest,
I will pull you close and remind you
that I’m still here,
and love is not just a feeling.
It was never just a feeling.
It’s the liquid you’ve put in my veins.
It’s the warmth I feel
when I wake up every morning.
I’m all out of metaphors.
To put it quite simply:
love is what I see in you.
And you are beautiful;
every piece.

When I was younger I always used to
see how long I could hold my breath
under water.
I never realized that I was preparing
myself for days
(for weeks)
like these when the surface is far beyond
my reach and water begins to fill my lungs.
I should have taught my bones to survive
on something other than air,
but here I am; driving with the windows down
on nights that sink below 50 degrees,
just so the wind can try and keep me company.
It does a terrible job you know.
It keeps telling me that it will be okay,
but I’m still hitting every red light.
And as I pass by arching power lines
I wonder which ones lead in your direction.
I wonder how long it would take me to get there.
I’ve been traveling around too much lately
anyways.
Nothing feels like home anymore.
I miss you.

I took my time today.
I walked the way I used to walk with you,
not worrying about where the next step took me.
I missed two buses.
I got home half an hour late.
Or early.
It doesn’t matter anymore,
everything is relative.
Next week will be this week.
Yesterday is already tomorrow.
I’ve always heard that time is cruel;
too quick when you want it,
too slow when you don’t.
I’m not really sure what to think anymore,
because it’s been three months,
but I still think about you every day.

Like trying to swim in a desert, I have been trying to forget you.
Obviously, it's not working.

When I was growing up my mother would say " It's okay not to try if you know you're fail miserably, but you can try it just for the experience."

So I did.

I spent hours reading books, familiarizing myself with characters that seemed a lot like you; impulsive, stubborn, witty, and sarcastic.
Can you see the similarity?

After deducing that books weren't the answer, I turned to the internet.
Sadly, this was a bust as well.
Every cat picture I saw reminded me of Star, the cat who ran away.
Yes, this was your cat.
I can't imagine why she would leave.
Honestly, CAN YOU READ THE SARCASM?

My last attempt at forgetting you was filling my head with meaningless facts.
Did you know that penguins have knees?
Yeah. You told me that.

Anyways, I decided that there was just no staying away from you.
My mind was like a private detective, subconciously tracking you down, searching for any type of clue that would lead me to you.
Don't ask me why I end up next to you everyday.
I honestly don't know.

But sometimes, I can see my train of thought leading me to you and it never crosses my mind to come to a screeching halt.

Maybe it's because I want to crash into you.
Or maybe it's because I want you to meet me halfway.

The Girl Who Walks Past Me In The Hallways Everyday

I've noticed you from the start
The way you walked into the hall
With your head bowed low
Denying any eye contact
(You still do that, though)
And I wish I could tell you
How amazing you just look
So you wouldn't walk past me—
That same pair of feet
Feeling hesitant to leave

We are complete strangers
But I feel like I've known you for years
The way you try to hold back your tears
The way you try to contain your laughter
The way you untangle your earpods at the bus stop
The way you trip over your own shoelaces
And got mad at yourself
The way you make me feel
So completely into you

You are dull, oridinary, nothing special
But that's not what I see
I've always hoped you'd walk down the hallway
Looking at tired faces and weary eyes
Instead of rugged plain white shoes

The way I see, I could hug you tight
And hold you close, tell you
"Everything will be alright and I am here for you"
The way I see, I could tickle you
Tell you silly jokes and make funny faces
To make you laugh even harder

The way I see, we could share earpods
But you wouldn't even need them anymore
I can sing your favourite songs for you
And when you're tired, do not hesitate
To rest your head on my shoulders
I could keep you company on long lonely bus rides
The way I see, I'd tightly knot your shoelaces together
In case you fall for someone better

I can be the one to prove your typical
"I can never dream of someone thinking of me,
Dreaming about me and wanting me" quotes
wrong
I will tell you how much I want to be with you
Every minute, second of my life
I will tell you how much I wanted to dream of you
In my sleep everynight
I will tell you how much I love you
And just how much you mean to me

You,
The girl who walks past me in the hallway everyday
Hold your head up and look me in the eye
*"You look really amazing today"

You have three tattoos. Full lips and good strong hands.
You have spots on your nose that I could never fully count.
You have a scar on your right arm, from that hot iron that one time.
The first time you pulled off your shirt, I traced the line with my fingers and fell in love.
You are so much more, from living from that moment to this one.
You always seem to apologise for the little mistakes we make.  
Your body is a map I know every inch of and if anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.

l.m