My boyfriend does not say he loves me.
“I love you” is reserved for family members only,
and even then, sometimes, it’s a boldfaced lie.
My father “loved” my mother,
he cheated on her, drank away her money
and,
he abandoned me.
Another victim of his so called love.
I don’t even know what “love” means.
Somehow there is a supposed difference
between
Love
and
in love.

I don’t see it.
I love you, should mean
I love you.
Period.
But it doesn’t, does it?
We can’t even rightfully define the word love,
so how can it mean something?

No, my boyfriend doesn’t say
I love you
instead he swears he adores me.
Adores.
Me.
Now that word has meaning,
it isn’t common.
It’s unique to us.


It means he respects me,
he likes my quirky smile.
The way I walk, talk, and sing.
He likes the way I fight
the way I dance
the way I like to read in the dark.

My boyfriend also doesn’t call me
honey, sweetie pie, cupcake or worst of all,
love muffin.
I am not a pie, cupcake, muffin or honey…
although I do like all of those things….
a lot.

He calls me by my name,
and there’s something special about that too.
My name, the thing that is constant.
All of my accomplishments are wrapped up in that one word.
I own it.

Tying my shoes for the first time,
riding a bike,
driving,
graduating,
acing that test I studied all night for.
It’s all there
in my name.
Honey, sweetie pie, cupcake and worst of all love muffin
don’t hold any meaning.
It’s what a guy calls a cute girl.
great.
That’s so original.


My name carries all of my accomplishments,
and my failures.
The first time I fell off my bike,
and my best friend had to walk me home.
The first time I got into a car accident,
and the airbag bruised my face.
The time, my ex boyfriend said he loved me,
only to cheat on me and have his mother call.

“Hey sweetie, I’m sorry I just don’t think you guys are in love
and as you know he’s already moving on.”
I guess even though I “loved” him,
I lost him.
So no,
my boyfriend does not say he “loves” me.

And the next time a boy-
because he will be a boy
calls after you
“Hey sweetie pie”
“Hey Honey”
“Hey cupcake”
or worst of all
“Hey love muffin”

Tell him you don’t have time to talk,
you’re looking for the man,
who will adore you,
and learn your name
in all its glory.

Caaaarpe
…
*caaarpe
...
Caarpe Diem

Keating whispered
He whispered.

in Delay there lies no plenty
Shakespeare warned,

gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Herrick advised.

We don’t
whisper, warn or advise

Generation Y
PROCLAIMS!

We shout, strong, sure and proud
YOLO

We chant, graffiti, hastag
YOLO

We get
one shot one opportunity
to seize everything in we ever wanted in one moment

**** the romantics,.
The critics, the experts, the analyzers too.

YOLO
Who says we can’t be prophetic,
Philosophical,
Beautiful?


This is us,
Our time
our chance,
so

let’s make the most of the night like we’re gunna die young.

It is our excuse.

The reason I hit the gas
rev the engine and slam it to the floor.
With squealing tires,
loud exhausts and smoky exits
You can hear me
we are young so lets set the world on fire we can burn brighter than the sun.

We need to do this now,
before the light in our eyes,
light of our lives,
go out.

YOLO

The reason we face mountains
of debt with a smile.

The face we put on
brave, ready, awake
when the bill collectors call,
the healthcare goes into reform
and the government shuts down.

YOLO

This moment, we own it
this second in a catalogue
of years.
The months we spend crashing cars, bars and acting like stars.

YOLO

The reason we apply for jobs,
we’ll never get.
Taking rejection with a grin
we will always try again.

YOLO

it is the reason I joined the race.
After all,

You.
Only.
Live.
Once.

-Kayla Morrison

Timeis running short,
infinity is nearing it's end,
and ours.
The wax has spilled over
onto the table.
The candle is flickering,
gasping for air,
clinging fruitlessly
to a fleeting life.
The wick, the timeline of our love
is burning down to nothing
soon extinguished.

Who are you?
Why do you haunt even my dreams,
penetrating my most personal momens?
My heart races because of you,
mind runs wild,
I accuse, abuse and lose
myself.
How is it that I am held
by an unexplicable fear
parlyzed, cold and alone
When your near, yet
you lend open and guiding hands
Gently lulling me
into a state of blistful insanity

My love
rains down
making puddles of feeling
at your feet
surrounding you
undisturbed
preserved
the subtle stillness
is beautiful
until….
your words stomp on my
love
splash and trudge
through
each fragile puddle
they splash and dry up
lost
for all time
my love does not rain
for eternity
abuse it
and it will evaporate
forever.

I am making a log pile
I choose a chainsaw carefully,
sixteen inch
I prime it,
push in three times
one
two
three
and pull
it roars and comes to life,
I find a tree,
dead and rotting,
poor thing
there is no time to think
so I start cutting
slice
slice
BOOM
it falls.
Next comes liming
small branches fly
time to log it
careful not to hit the ground
the chainsaws teeth chew through birch
it’s a clean dismemberment.
I stack the logs one by one,
building on what is already there
one on top of the other
sometimes they fall
and I have to rearrange
but I never give up
that log pile
isn’t a pile at all.

the flowers are blooming again,
my dear little angel is dancing in them
her hair like a river flowing,
arms like a pinwheel spinning,

The sun emits rays again
my sweet baby is laying in them,
her skin so beautiful is sparkling,
her eyes so deep are closed

The seasons have changed again
and my love is happy
again.