"i don't write much anymore because i'm not that sad lately."
"i love you."

"i would have e, but times change."
"seriously like i don't get you- i used to but now i don't."
"i still love you. i will always love you."

why is it i always manage to write you a letter? don't you think i've written enough about you?

this morning, 1:31 AM, i asked if you were awake. you said of course and for some reason that response made me get the guts to tell you what i've wanted to tell you for a year now. maybe my head was clouded or i thought  it would be poetic to tell you at that time, but now that it is bright and sunny out and while everyone is preparing to make their dinners, i'm sitting writing about how you told me to let go of you. tonight, i almost regret telling you.

yes, at 1:31 AM, i told you that i've liked you for over a year now and that i had to tell you to get it off my chest. you said, "but what about you and matthew? you guys would be cute together!" i could tell you were turning me down, i just didn't expect you to do so nicely. you see, you've always been really mean to me. you hide from me that one time i was going to tell you, you didn't show up at my homecoming party, you avoid me in the hallways and don't ask me questions in english when we all know- i'm the best at it. you broke my ******* heart noah, and i hate you for that and i hate that you would turn the conversation on me and matthew when i want to talk about us. i don't want matthew or anybody else, i want you.
people keep asking me about matthew and i don't want to like him because i want you, still. also because i don't want to be in a relationship and simply, i just can't see myself with him. but that's beside the point.

you told me that you loved a girl and she didn't love you back so you got over it, and i should do the same. because it's really not that big of a deal. but i think otherwise. how mean is it to tell me to get over you? you can't just tell someone to get over it when they've waisted an entire year on you! do you know how many times i've thought about you? do you know how many times i've spent wondering and wondering what could be? do you know how many times i've wanted to just tell you? do you know how many times i wanted you to be with me? i can't get over it.

it's 1:43 AM, and i say to you that i think you don't understand the levity of this situation and that i think it would be worthwhile to talk this out. you tell me, "what's there to talk about that can't be settled now?" i hate you for that. i just want to see you and tell you everything, all the letters i've written, all the thoughts and dreams i've had. but you don't let me and i don't think that's fair.

i don't think you're fair noah, i really don't.

i ask you if you ever realized that i liked you. you say no but you're brother, twin, might have mentioned it one time. then i ask you to just straight up tell me you don't like me. but you don't have the chutzpah to do so. i knew that was going to happen but i don't think you should be scared to tell someone you don't love them like that. you say relationships are not on your radar right now because their a waste of time and money. and i say, "i believe you noah, i really do." but i really don't because i know if it were any other girl, you would have dove head first.

it's 2:12 AM now and i ask if we can still remain friends and if you can still help me on my latin homework because you're pretty good at it and i listen the most when you talk, and when i'm looking into your candid coffee eyes. you say of course and you love latin, which i already knew. i say good night and you don't respond.

it's 5:05 PM, and i'm still in love with you. please, why don't you love me back? why don't you love me back? why don't you love me back?

i never want to write about you again because you make me sick to my stomach, you make me want to scream at the top of my lungs. you make me drown even when i feel afloat.

but i think i'm in love with you noah and i don't think i'll ever be able to let you go.

dear darling,
last night your eyes were a crisp warm brown.
today their red and blotchy- like you've been crying from a broken heart. but darling you don't know what i've been through.
the rain that pours from the black sky is salty and heavy.
it drenches me from head to toe- i'm not afraid of it- the rain.
let it pour and pour until everything is dead. let it pour until everything is sad and dull.
i'm not afraid of it darling- the rain.
let the rain show you how many tears i've cried for you over a broken heart.
let the thunder startle you so you know the anger oozing out of my broken heart.
darling, let the lightening struck you so you now know the power i can now control over you breaking my heart.
but dear darling,
do not show me your crisp warm brown eyes again. for let them stay red and blotchy- the rain pouring from your eyes.
because dear darling,
i've been through that.

he said that he hates books
but if someone were to write one about him, he'd read it all his life.

what he doesn't know-
i've already written an entire library about him.

each day you count on your fingers how many times you've caught him looking at you.
it doesn't fill up all five.
and conversations become like this too. just a steady rhythem of one...two...three...
you're bad at math so you don't know the average of how many times your lips should be moving
and he doesn't know when it's the right time to make your lips stop moving.
yes, to shut you up.

i know how it works.
first, they began with the sign of the cross-
up, down, right, left, center.
i will leave my hand on my chest and think,
what a strong heartbeat after he has broken my heart several times.
then they forgive our sins-
i have greatly sinned in my thoughts and in my words, in what i have done and in what i have failed to do
my mind will savor these words and i’ll think to myself,
it is hard not to sin when you are standing right in front of me
and then
my chest will cave in on itself like it's
an ancient religious pagan dome
and my ears will start to ring
like the bells before communion.
and when it becomes still, silent and all you can hear
is the prayers around you, i think
*when i go up to that altar and drink out of that holy grail
i will be kissing the lips of a cold savior

i'm not sure what he saw in me.
maybe it was my crooked canine tooth when i smiled
or how i always complained about the heat rather than the cold.
maybe it was how my hands were always ripped,
blessed by the sea water
or how my hair turned blond in the summer, brown in the fall.
i'm not sure what he saw in me.
and now that i'm miles away i can't help but think what happens if i had stayed?

i've been thinking about what you said about him and i have to say this:
i cannot help him from a million miles away.
i cannot let him mess up his future or his life even though i keep telling him he is, he is-
especially if he keeps doing what he's doing.
i am not getting on a plane and writing a eulogy to someone who never even loved me back- that's not how i want to come home.
he needs a rock- trust me- i once was his rock.
but now that i'm gone, he doesn't have a rock.
he just needs someone, anyone, to tell him that you're there for him through night and day even if you don't want to be.
kiss his forehead, hold his hand, run in the rain, go to the beach during the winter. he will see that his life does in actuality matter.
he needs to know that you won't change him just be there to guide him.
so please do me a favor, the kid has lost all faith, be his **** rock.

"i wrote something about you today."
"i've always been scared to say something"
"i just want some time with you alone before i leave."
"you are my darling"
"kiss me please. i choose you."
"i have to go. bye e."

"we're too different for your comfort."
"you want it to mean something more than a hookup"
"you have no idea how complicated i am... don't try and figure me out."
"remember when i was playing the piano for you?"
"five years or so have passed, and nothing has changed except my attitude."
"i used to try and explain myself to people."
"do i seem numb all the time? do i... because i'm breathing but not living."
"there is much, much bigger things going on between us now, don't worry."
"i push them out sometimes, even ask them... i'm just that kinda person"
"i push people away because i'm scared of getting to close to them. i've only let one person in."
"i'm not mad at you... i have bigger things to care about than what's happened. i'm just annoyed that you're mad at me."
"all this time we've been friends you think i'm not putting much effort into you but in reality i spend all my time talking to you."
"i stayed out of respect for you."
"what's over and done with? us mad at each other?"
"see ya katie."

because darling...
the moment you start to love the wrong person
is the moment the right person starts to love you.
and when you realise in those dreadful seconds that all along the right person loved you-
the rope snaps...  
the clock ticks...
the breath out of your lungs will turn black...
and you, my darling, will succumb to guilty heartbreak.

i remember;
it was a warm summer night
the humidity tickled my fair skin...

and i asked you if you ever loved me
and all you said was you didn't know.

did i shut the door to open another one?

this is a love letter not a goodbye.....
it has been a year since our argument
and so much has changed.
maybe it's because we are on different sides of the revolving earth
or maybe it's because you  just don't care any longer.
but i thought i'd take the time and write you this;
i still love you.
and i’m sorry my last letter made you feel nothing
and i’m sorry that i had to leave and i never tried again.
this past year i’ve been thinking about us, you;
where we went wrong
and where we didn’t.
and i guess i still don’t have anwser; all i know is that you gave up on me quicker than i gave up on you.
i hope next summer when i visit we can finally close the wound
because to me it doesn’t feel like it’s been bandaged, only sugarcoated…
but i guess that’s what we do for love.
when i picture my life, still at home,  
i picture you and i;
and what we would have done together.
everyone says we would have gotten together; they couldn’t guess for how long; but they knew.
and mum says i would have taken you to my dance and we would have laughed, kissed and made terrible jokes and pulled pranks on people we didn’t even know.
i heard you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people;
i always knew that would happen.
and it pains and disgusts me that you’re throwing away your life;
i want to fix it so badly
but i don’t think i can from my dim lit desk halfway around the world.
when we’ve talked breifly;
i try to make your life a living hell
so you know what it feels like.
but then i remember that you just don’t care.
and when i asked if you remember what happened that cold july night;
you respond
‘no, i just don’t care.’
and why would i want to be with someone like that anyway?
my last letter was confusing,
i admit.
i was angry and upset and i just wanted you to love me.
but i’ve learned now that you can’t make people love you.
and i’ve learned that if you really want to say something…

...say it…

he's like a cool glass of lemonade
on a hot sticky summer day.
he's like fresh peach cobbler in the winter,
and the finest apple picked in the fall.
and during the spring,
he waits
to grow into something delectable.

i'll tell you that if i start crying
i won't be able to stop
because the salt that pours from my sunken eyes
reminds me too much of the river
where i used to spend my afternoons dipping my toes into the water
and i'll say to you that if i sit alone
for even a second
i'll start recalling memories
putting puzzle pieces back
that i thought would never fit
i'll yell at you and say that
i want to go
and look out at the barren dessert beneath
my small feet
and i'll ask you to tell me not to wear that
because it reminds me too much
of when i wore it all too often
the night i arrived
the night i left
i'll say to you
don't let me read that
because i'll internally die
from something you didn't know could **** you
i'll notify you that i desire something
a wish an untold fortune
lastly, i'll do anything for you
because i want to go home
and when i do...
i'll never come back.

to win in a room full of crowded people-
is to lose in a room full of sad poets.

to cry in a damp dark room-
is to stay calm when you gulp ocean water.

winter nights,
the gumtrees would brush up against my window.
i could hear the leaves fall,
and the branches twist,
the raindrops slapping the pavement,
the beaded droplets slithering down my window.
and when i looked out
into the midnight darkness,
i saw dim street lights,
and bobbing buoys detailed with marine lights.
i could smell the fine detail of smoke,
the salty crisp air.

those nights,
i wished your body was next to mine,
sleeping soundly-
i would have imagined you smelled like
salt and rain-
me, tracing the rope burns stamped into your palm.
and those nights,  
while the playful gumtrees tickled my window...
i knew everything would be sound
in the morning.

i love the way soft wood feels under my palm-
something once painful and rough, crafted into something so soft and beautiful-  
i can feel every crack under my skin.

it's like your hands.

eyes full with compassion, concentration-
normal people don't understand like we do
we are artists, and none of us are the same-
it's like with every rhythm, beat and octave
our bodies start to become the musics-
with every finger hitting a key-
our heartbeat becomes stronger
as it unlocks ecstasy in our minds-
nothing compares to that, for we are musicians.

last night, i drank five glasses of champagne-
the burn in my throat, the bubbles dancing in my stomach-
it was like with every sip, my naked soul and truth became unravelled-
i watched myself stumble and fall, slur and hope

and when i finally threw my body into my bed
my drunken mind asked me why? -
because the guilt started to settle
on top of the bubbles
and the lump in my throat started to settle
on top of the alcohol

they look at old photographs of me
i'm smiling ever too brightly-
a soft glow on my face
a crooked canine tooth  
salty lips and adventurous blood
pumping through skinny veins
i know i will never have you-
get you underneath me, your lips
and fingers smashing mine-
because i've lost all confidence when i'm around you

they look at me now
i am still smiling-
still ever so slightly glowing- once in a while-
i still have that crooked tooth
but i no longer have salty lips
nor adventurous blood-
i am too chubby, too short,
too broken and hurt
for you to ever love me again.

i look at myself then-
i look like i'm trying to impress
-dressed to the nines
even in the supermarket-
that's not me

i look at myself now
i am too depressed
for you to ever love me again.

they were tangled up in the sheets
their naked bodies and souls shining, glistening
by the sunday sun shining through the window.

there was a cup of cold brewed coffee on the broken down
beside table
lipstick smudges smeared over the rim
a tube of mascara, some tissues
and cigarette butts
a poetry book titled
'***** pretty little things.'

sleeping next to her was an unknown man
with a chiseled jaw
whiskers and stubble
there was a glass of warm whiskey
a tie and white shirt strewn on the dusty floor

she rolled out of bed
grabbed her things and
scampered out of the room-
alarmed that she shut the door to hard

walking outside
the sun shining, glistening
looking back
staring at her
was a still object-
her home

i know how it works-

my eyes will burn into the sacred light and
drip tears like the Holy candle on the altar

my hand will grip my other so tight
i'll wonder if i'm actually trying to hold onto faith-
Godly faith

my lips become red and cold
like i'm kissing the holy grail
only it's cupped with holy ice

my throat starts to become dry and i wish
i could drink all the wine He gave
to be drunk
so i could forget about you

my chest caves in on its self  like it's
an ancient religious pagan dome

my ears start to ring
i'll block out you're voice in my head
like the bells before communion, like a priest's sermon

i get scared though that He won't help me if i think like this-
deadly mortal sin at it's finest-

i focus my mind again to pray
hoping somewhere along the line
He'll give you to me

clenching my fingers to tight into my ripped skin on my palm-
should i do it?
unsettling butterflies arising into my lungs-
will i be okay?  
conflicting mind moments
gut feelings
sweat resting above my upper lip
liquefied drops of a pleasing heart
averting ocean blue eyes taking in every banged up locker
why do i even try?
large steps of pure shakiness when i see you-
can i tell what i really feel?

i saw a flower one summer evening.
it was dusted in yellow speckles of pollen upon it's beautiful blushing pink colour.
i picked it; it's sharp thorns digging into my skin-
pain so simple and delightful it was hard to say i wasn't in love.
and when i got home; i put it into a vase and day by day
i watched the leaves fall off onto my glassy wooden floor
and even though it was shedding and dripping petals-
it was still pulchritudinous
like our love.

(i felt a piece shed violently from my heart, onto the floor.
like a tear shedding off a cheek.
it's all for you, love. )

i know what it feels like
to have the ocean roll over your shoulders -

to try and have your feet touch the bottom
only to resurface gasping for air like you assume
it's your last.

i know what it feels like
to have your hands ripped by the ropes-
to grasp so tightly,
only to be cut and stung by the salt water
blessing your hands.

and i know what it feels like to have the water
float beneath your back
feeling every beat and current run across your body.

and one day i was caught in a rip tide
i yelled at the ocean, "stop holding me down. set me free."
it wouldn't give up.

and a few days later, i was casted like an anchor
in the bottom of the ocean- seeing no light
and i yelled, "stop holding me down. set me free."

and finally one day; it did.

the salt* that poured into my now bleeding wound was like

how *he came into my heart.

hurtful, sorrowful yet gay.

the current that moved beside my still body was like

how my emotions made my corpse feel.

contenment, compassion yet desire.

the wind whisphering in my ear was like

him telling me goodbye.

gloomy, neglected yet loathing.

the white caps dancing on the waves was like  

when i remembered him.

peaceful, tranquil yet remorseful.

and so, when the still river hit the sharp rocks-

it shred it to pieces- only like what you did with my heart.

wearness, rage yet misery.

this isn't a love letter in the simplistic form of things. it's more of a goodbye, a letter that only let myself down. no, in fact, you let me down.

only you knew in your heart how you felt. it didn't matter what else people thought. the idea of us, me leaving you; shouldn't have scared you. but it did. did you isolate yourself from me? did you think that leaving me to swim in my pool of thoughts, which were full of you, was going to make you feel better?

your lips, my lips; there temples. i was going to give that to you. i was hoping you would too; that maybe somewhere deep inside, you were passionate enough? but you left me and my soul and we started to whither like a dying rose.

why did you do this? pull me to dance with you and then push me away like i'm some kind of animal. some kind of sick joke to you; you're the only one that's laughing- you just hurt me instead.

stop looking at me like i'm enchanting. stop putting your knee next to mine.
stop toying with me.
stop saying we are too different for my comfort.
stop giving me the idea of the possibility of us. it drives me crazy, like i'm some kind of thing to you.

maybe this letter is my excorism. it's not a goodbye letter, it's a love letter and i promised myself it wouldn't be. maybe i don't want to say goodbye to you; but that's just it. that is the reason why this is a web of confusion, vulnerability and fiery feelings. because i can't get you out of my head, my heart and everything else that makes me function.

and guess what? this isn't simple and maybe they don't want us to be; but you know fireworks were there. you could hear them and feel them. it was as if they shook your body from head to toe. so, stop playing with the fireworks and just let them explode.

so you have destroyed me. a self destructive game. you are like a hurricane; tearing and ripping apart at every broken seam.

don't you understand my grieving? why can't you connect the dots? your good at games so why can't you understand this one?

rip me out of your booming heart. the power is too much to take. don't talk to me any longer, take me out of your life. because i don't want to be in it and i don't want you to be in mine.

although we never said it too each other, i think we both knew. i choose my heart over my head which just ended up bombing you. i was so blind that i didn't see what you were going to do to me.

you think we've played each other? but who really ended up losing? a boy that didn't appreciate what i did for him? a girl that would go out of her way to satisfy you to see you beam for once?

i was there for you, the entire time. and you disregarded me like you grew sick of nice little girls. i liked you regardless of your flaws, even though there were a lot.

to me, sure you were a diamond in the rut, but there are so many diamonds in this world that sparkle brighter than you. you just lost little old me, a star in the dark night sky. someone who shined for you in your darkest hours. so sorry, but you just ended up playing your **** self.

this isn't a goodbye letter, this is a simple love letter full of it and i hope now and forever you feel bad about not letting things be. like i said, i only let myself down. no; us let me down.

{Fall}

It started when you said you liked my voice.
It happened when you said you liked how outgoing I was.
Soon enough, my feelings started to turn like the summer air.
And even though they couldn't feel it any longer- the warm air hitting their skin-
I felt it in me.
Because it lite me up like the summer night sky.
But soon enough, my feelings started to turn like the autumn leaves.
And even though they were falling, they were crisp and rigid.
Brown and withered.
And as the months dwelled on, you became fascinated with someone else.
And I became like a lonesome Christmas tree watching you from the window when really you were lite so much brighter than me.
When the new year rolled around,
I promised myself I would stop.
And I did for a while- and then rumours swirled about us- and like the winter air, I became frosted and still.
But I kept thinking of that summer air and how it kept me warm inside and how the leaves fell in the fall like my feelings and how the winter air chilled my bones with thoughts of you.
And then I remembered, "I like the sound of your voice."
And the seasons mixed together.

We stole the last minute of the hot, sticky summer air.

It hit our skin hard when you pressed on the gas.

It twirled and danced on our skin-

like it was magic.

Like we were magicians in the night.

You have the music on.

"It's country," you say while your brown eyes twinkle in the red light.

The clock says 10:42.

You turn right on red and give me an uncertain smile.

"Do you like country?" You blush.

I turn towards you; wide eyed and grinning.

"I havn't been in the South long enough."

We laugh, our voices echoing through the night.

We leave it at that.

And it's still 10:42.

i remember the bracelet you gave me.
it was wrapped up in a black and white box that
made my heart flutter like the sail erupting from it's bag
and so, when i put it on, i saw it's simplicity.
it's ribbon of stirling silver knotted together.
i sometimes look at my wrist and pretend that the bracelet hugging my small untouched bone-
is your fingers- touching every piece of my skin.
i sometimes go through the bag and the box the bracelet was set carefully in.
your love- still a part of me.

i'll scour through the box at three in the morning-
when i can't sleep and your on my mind.
i'll rack my thoughts and remember when you smiled
or when they thought, wow he really loved her.

and i want to find a message from you, despite our distance.
but i don't.

and every precious second i waste going through the bag and box-
and every minute i stare at my bracelet hanging from my slender wrist-
i break.
because i don't see a message in your scripted hand writing.
and i don't see your name carved into my bracelet.
and i know that your fingers will never be around my wrist feeling my pulse- my heartbeat for you.
because your there and i'm here and distance is too far
and ocean's are too wide
and currents are too strong.
and winds are too heavy.
recalling the memories as if they were the only thoughts
that kept me breathing, living.

yet, i want to pretend like i forgot you-
like you never were a part of me
so;
bracelets don't mean a thing.