I think about flowers and beautiful gardens
and how eventually they all wilt
we all decay one day, don't you know?

I think about roses and dandelions
of weeds and thorns and r e d
we all bleed when our skin is ripped

I think about trees and leaves
of bark and branches and green
sometimes oxygen tastes like cyanide

I think about how the wind sounds
when its gentle but there's no chimes
can I really believe in something I cannot see?

i.
Your love is a heartbreaker
She's got a boyfriend anyway
Pour a little salt, we were never here

ii.
Not really sure how to feel about it
Bent and broken is all I've been
And without you is how I disappear

iii.
How can I love if I'm afraid to fall?
Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream
Girl, you could have been the one

iv.
Story of my life, searching for the right, but it keeps avoiding me
Look around you, it's empty and you're sad
This is not what I have planned, it's out of my control

v.
Won't commit so you choose to run away
You're too perfect for my hands to hold
I'm afraid somebody else might end up being me

vi.
I thought of you and where you'd gone
You should know me by now
My weakness is I care too much

vii.
Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can't fight
I should have bought you flowers and held your hand
Feelings like this could only mean I'm sinking

viii.
This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending
In the perfect situation, I let love down the drain
Would you have the guts to say "I don't love you like I did yesterday"?

ix.
If you were dead or still alive, I don't care, I don't care
You and I were fireworks that went off too soon
If you love me, let me go.

i.
You’re alone, and you don’t really mind.
It’s quiet here, and peaceful
No one asks too much of you
You stay who you are and you do what you do
And no one’s much the wiser.
You like it this way.

ii.
You've locked yourself in your dorm because you don’t want to deal with people.
“School is easy, people are hard.”
That is the mantra you mentally whisper as you disappear
into novels with characters with much bigger problems
than a lack of friends you don’t remember wanting.
You’re not sure if you like it this way.

iii.
There are people you barely know smiling at you.
It’s sort of like you've known them long,
but you’re sure it’s only been two days.
You know all their names, which is weird,
but they know your name too.
They sort of understand.
You sort of like it this way.

iv.
You’re surrounded on all sides, but it’s nice.
It feels like the music in the air
is racing through your bloodstream.
Is this what it feels to be apart of something?
Greater?
You might like it this way.

v.
It’s too late to be night but too early to be morning.
You talked as though you don’t have
your past locked in your back pocket.
You laugh like this is nothing new,
like you sleepover with “practically strangers” all the time.
But they don’t feel like strangers, not really.
You think you like it this way.

vi.
You’re not sure what’s really happening anymore.
There’s no urge to be alone,
but no urge to constantly be with them,
as though these relationship are symbiotic,
rather than the lecherous addictions
friendships became in high school.
You’re not sure if you trust it this way,
but you like it.

Have you ever looked for love
in the space between someone's arms?

What is that volume
when compared to the immensity
of the known universe?

I'm sorry, it doesn't make sense.
Searching for something as vast as love
in the microscopic space
of a human's arms
whilst stars explode and collapse
as my love did

I'm not good at falling in love
but I seem to be good at being in it

I kick and I flail when emotions start
to trickle and accumulate
to pile upon one another like clues
toward a conclusion unsatisfactory
because I know where this is heading

I've been head over heels
and *** over elbows
and flat as a board on my back
but each time as I felt it growing
I denied, and I lied, and I wept

See, I understand what it's like
to start a war over the wink of a lady
I know how it feels to share a crush
with those whose happiness
you prioritize above your own

I know how to feel worthless
and I know how to doubt
and I know how to keep my mouth shut
but I know how to love without regrets
and I like to believe that's enough

See, sometimes I feel the need
to browse through old tags on tumblr
and sometimes I stare at my phone
and debate sending a text
and lots of times I remember
that I saved every message I sent you

But that isn't fair.

Because you know love is ever evolving
and there's so many different types
and perhaps never the same love twice
at least I hope not, anyway.
Cause I always seem to throw myself
into chasms overflowing
with deep dark water
and I'm not the best swimmer.

And I love to believe that people
are life preservers
stuck on shore.

I was bullied from kindergarten to freshman year.

I loved to imagine a tall boy
three inches taller exactly,
just tall enough that
each kiss would have to happen
on my tip toes
and riding on his back
would feel just like
flying.

His hair would be dark brown
and his eyes would be
unremarkable
a brown so dark that others
would think it black
no one else would get close enough
to tell the difference
and no one else would love them
as I did
just as I hoped my eyes would look
to someone else
some day.

He wouldn’t speak much
to other people
his words would mean much
but only to those
who could understand what he meant
and I would be the first
to major in his language
but I would never teach it
to any but our children.

He would look at me
like I personally rose the sun
and hung the stars at night
I would be so high in his regard
that my word would be law
and he would never doubt
anything I said
and even when I lied
obvious and wide eyed
sarcasm dripping from my lips
he would believe me

He would visit me in school
to sit with me at lunch
walking slowly
past the girls who told me
‘no one will ever love you’
and ‘who would ever want to kiss
a face like yours?’
He would prove them wrong right there
at the table they shunned me to
kissing me in full view of everyone.

He would dress in leather
and his hair would be greased
combed back just like a bad boy
he would have a motorcycle
and a car he never drove
and his jeans would be
perfectly between baggy and skinny

He would call me
His Girl
and if anyone messed with me
he would narrow his eyes in such a way
that made them fear for their lives
My bullies would never bother me again.

He would describe my skin
with words like silky, soft and succulent
ebony, stately, and irresistible
but never would he compare its color
to any sort of food
except perhaps sugar
when speaking of the taste.

I built him in the lonely hours
when eyes followed me
and whispers rose behind my back
I made sure that for every insult
tossed my way like live grenades
he threw back with easy confidence
as though my life were a game of COD.

My hair was never too wild
too big or too ‘ethnic’
My lips were just the right size
to **** the breath straight from my lungs
He didn’t care if I shaved my legs
and he liked my sense of style.
He didn’t mind if I was wearing
basketball shorts and too big tshirts,
and he told me that tight clothing
left nothing to the imagination anyway
and besides he didn’t want the other boys
to see what they’d missed.
He didn’t care that I was as boyish
as I was shy
and he knew that the wall I built around myself
wasn’t all there was to me
and he always knew just what I needed,
and sometimes when I was lonely
he showed up just to give me a hug.

And when I got to high school
He shaped how I saw things
He always told me I was beautiful
and if no one else could see that, it was their loss.
He told me that there was never anything wrong with me
and if no one else could see that
then **** Them and All They Stand For.

He faded back into my subconsciousness,
speaking to me though I never truly
thought of him the way he’d been
He stopped bursting into classrooms
to show others what they were missing
and he started whispering an idea
that I didn’t need him anymore.

I would pass a reflection of myself
and He would lift my chin
‘Look how beautiful you are.’
He knew when I was sad,
and promised it was only temporary.
He smiled and gave me thumbs up
when I doubted and shook with nerves.
And with him I could cope.
And soon without him I could too.

Now when I passed mirrors
I lifted my chin myself.
‘Look how beautiful I am’.
and when I was sad
I told myself it was only temporary.
I gave myself smiles,
and I laughed at myself,
and I learned to love me as I’d always imagined
he did.
Unconditionally.