Don't
fall in love with her.
For you will both crash
and I promise, you will burn, for

She is the girl with too many wounds
the ones even an ocean of your love can't heal.
She is the girl with scars on her knees
because she tried taking leaps of faith far too many times,
waiting for someone to catch her
but they never did.

She is the girl who will never be with you
even if she is holding your hand
and your fingers are wrapped around her shoulders
and her neck is resting on your chest for
she will always be atop an asteroid
trying to catch moon-tears
because she knows that the moon weeps for her.

She is the girl who won't tell you she loves you
even if you tell her a hundred times and look at her
with all the longing you can muster
because she knows how words can be.
Some words
are only said to fill in the empty silence.

She is the girl who is hard to dance with
because she refuses to be led across the dance floor
she's already been led,
many, many times
and she always ended up
with floor burns, scrapes and sprains.

She is the girl with pimples
not enough to cover her face
but enough to let you know how far into the night she stays awake
writing poetry about 'you'
she's written so many poems about 'you'
because her hands won't stop moving
her mind won't stop weaving and I promise,
you wouldn't want her to write about you.

She is the girl with broken, dead bones
the girl who's seen too many deserts
climbed too many mountains
but she never reached the top or
came to the end of the endless stretch of yellow, but
she can tell you a lot about oases.

So before you even think
of falling in love with her, I warn you,
don't.
Do whatever else you want just
don't
fall in love


with me.

“I’m an easy crier,
But sometimes I cry the hardest.
And my laugh doesn’t sound too pretty,
But I always laugh the loudest.

I’m a fast talker,
But I don’t lisp as much anymore.


I chew my lip,
I can’t tell you how many smiles
I’ve faked,
And if “I’m fine” is a lie
I’ve lost track
Of how many lies I’ve told.

Because I wear my heart on my sleeve,
I’ve earned quite a few battle scars,
But my heart’s always been for
The underdog.

I’m misunderstood,
Sometimes I laugh when I shouldn’t,
Sometimes I speak when I should only be seen.
I’m thin-skinned, not exactly loud-mouthed,
But if you gave me the choice
Of whether to whisper
Or shout,
I’d scream for all I’m worth.

I mess up,
I freak out,
I have nervous ticks,
Sometimes I use cop-outs.

I worry too much,
Sometimes I overthink,
Sometimes I don’t think enough.

I should be more careful,
I should be more selfless,
I need to practice grace,
Be less worried about my face.

But all these things
Make me
Me.

And yeah,
I need to be more selfless,
I need to not be vain,
But I’m going to have my struggles,
And someday they’ll be my past,
But I have good qualities too,
And they’ll always be part of me.”

I have no memory of being loved
By you or any other girl for that matter.

You've never even showed love not once
So as an orphan in the slums, I beg you, for once
Let me feel what I've been searching for months
In fact, a feeling I've never felt, not ever

For your absence from my life, to me
Is like sadness giving birth, I am its offspring
And not even a thousand violins playing a symphony
Would put my tears and emptiness to sleep

But I know, deep inside, that you love me
And so, please grant me the keys to your heart
I know you are possibly just shy
If so, do know, that I will not abuse them

Let me taste even a crumb of your love
Be the ladder to free me from this pit of sorrow
Love that I will cherish today and tomorrow
So please, just please, show me your love.

It no longer needs to be said.
The words "I miss you" have gone back and forth between us so many times in so few days that the sentiment is fully understood. I miss you. You miss me. We are alone and separate and distant and all the terrible things we never wanted to be, and we know, we are painfully aware, but we repeat it, everyday, through lonely screens and tired fingertips.
"I miss you." It is our new hello.
Every time my world brightens with these words from you, my heart breaks, and I smile. I stop to think of all the suns that rose and fell when I was with you. I sigh in the darkness and try to conjure up your eyes in my mind, but I never could look at you long enough to tell what color they are. I know they are dark, and that they shine the brightest when you drop a clever retort over your shoulder. I write back, "I miss you too."
I don't want to miss you anymore; I want one of us to get on a plane and I want to see you on my couch again. I want to hug you for the second time and talk about how long it's been. I want to hand you the remote and let you flip between our favorite channels and listen to you tell the boring stories we always teased you for. I want to tell you how no one has ever supported me or understood me the way that you do. I want us to play schoolyard games and travel the world and stay up all night. I want to tell you how you wrecked my life when you walked into it, how you took me under your wing and rearranged every part of me, how you sang to me songs I'd never heard, taught me to speak words I'd never spoken, and made me feel safer and stronger than I'd ever known I could feel.
But I am frightened, still, and I shrink into myself as a shadow when the sun rises; you are a star if ever there was a star, and I am a moon at best. You have given me light and warmth and I have absorbed it, consumed it, and given nothing back but my admiration. I cannot touch you, cannot stare too long. I cannot speak; what would the night say to the day?
You say that you miss me, and I wonder how you see me in your mind, if you know the color of my eyes, if you know when they shine the brightest. You say that you miss me, and I wonder if you mean it in the way that I do when I echo the phrase back to you, because I say that I miss you, but in my heart I do not only miss, but love.