bubbles and sweat are flirting again tonight, as I try to wash away the way your knees knock together when you drive
and how you never take your eyes off the trees
it's only been ten minutes and I've lost myself in the thought of the lines around your smile

remember the time that we had 365 days of spring and you learned how to braid my hair
yeah that was like the best year of my life
everyday was an adventure
the waters draining but oh boy you're still here, calling me honey
mushaboom memories and yep, his sister looks just like him

we love in everyday gestures:
my favorite candle and your slippers, Father John Misty, a hand-written note, and 700 pages of pure magic
out of the many things i over-analyze, it's none of these simple loves, my dear

we all love in our own way, in the way we can. sometimes that love is loud and bright and WOW WOW WOW. but sometimes its not. its quiet like making that drive. like looking me straight in the eyes. like giving you the left earbud. like mwah mwah let me kiss your neck. and on the days i don’t feel like sinking, i know i should love you better. like stop running. stop your tears. stop your lies. sometimes it'll tell its own lies, the best lies you've ever heard. it loves like contusions and strained voices. like bahama mama blues and my vampire eyes. love like the first time I saw you cry. like a Sunday afternoon, Tuesday night, or Friday morning. love like we have the answers. or maybe we don’t. i mean an unconventional love is better than no love at all.

i take to you the way water takes to paper and so does everyone else. you’ve always been that way and you always will be. but that means that sometimes i need you to love me a little louder because it’s all just too quiet. when i’m not too worried about the girl that’ll be sneaking into your room next October, i remember that you’re not responsible for the places my mind wanders during the off hours. and i’m sorry if i ask for too much, but we’ve come to love each other like never before and i think you owe me this much.

before you make another rash decision
(before my heart falls right out of my toes)

think about the night you showed up on my doorstep
wrapped up in your oh my god i need you's
eyes big and bloodshot and my heart on your tongue

i’m a believer in the past
but my lungs shouldn't breathe out nostalgia, rather than carbon dioxide
I've killed too many plants and frankly I'm starting to die myself

check your winter coat pockets and make sure
that tucked away with your peppermint wrappers and crumpled parking passes
there aren't any memories too good to forget
(I couldn't forget you if I tried)

i bet if i went through your shelves i’d find
my ponytail holders and Burt’s bees kisses and words that read
“we loved each other before we even knew we did”

so lets stop the running and the faking and the decision making
lets just be

you're breathing in and out while I think of all the ways you've made me feel beautiful again
please keep mumbling that promise
you know the one where you say you'll be my strong oak? only if I'll cover the room with the flower petals from so many moons ago?
little pieces of me sprinkled on your wooden floors, remnants of our creaky love
(maybe I'm supposed to be your giving tree)
let’s just lay here and lay here and lay here
till our rings are too many to count

on second thought, let's intertwine our roots
become twisted in these sheets, immovable from this bed
grip the headboard and tell me you love me just a little bit harder this time
we don't need the sun today and we sure don't need the rain
(we've had enough of that haven't we?)
instead of withering away like everyone else we know
we’ve started to grow
there’s a garden blooming from these floorboards

its not that I'm not strong. its the time you held me still and promised you'd let me live this life, that you didn't have be my happiness. for next two months, i didn't shed a single tear. but then i watched you drift away and not want to come back. and trust me I've wanted to get going too, but theres something about this oblivion that binds us together, keeps us wanting more. theres consistence in our shaky love. i am no wolf. my teeth do not gnash but i’ll howl at my own demons until the moon fades away (yours too, honey). you’re a rose growing from my bloodstream and we both know it. only i cant just see through the good i do for you. i cant forget that you’re under my spell and I've looked Jesus in the eyes and promised Him I wont let this go. not this time. its that we do need each other. its that i need you. i couldn't tell you whether that makes me weak or not… but sometimes i do feel strong.

darling, your eyes have seen far too many of my gloomy hurricane days for you to still be here. i tucked away parts of me in hopes that my wild would go unnoticed but you read me bedtime stories and kiss my best friends. i want to ask you if your calluses hurt. i want to ask you if you hurt at all. i want to make us better. i tried to make you jealous months ago, i tried to move on. i actually kissed him that time, don't you mind? i used to feel like sinking deep into my thinking cave and drowning… but you swam there and coaxed me out, or maybe it was the other way around. now i watch you watching me. we sit in your car and don't drive until we've found what we’re looking for. nights pass like nights do and I think i'm okay with being so in love with you.

the point of my last pen bleeds onto another scrap of paper and i wonder how many hours will pass until i don't hurt anymore. until i'll stop bleeding out like this pen. i've got printed photos of you showing a different face from a different time that seem to watch the formation of every word i'm breathing. and honestly i'm wondering how i got here... sewing thoughts together and then ripping them apart.

production and appearance are my worst enemies. exposing the soul is a delicate thing. because my mirrors (and yours) whisper lies just like everybody else. HA. many doe-eyed, naive girls before you have fallen into those untruths and drowned in their weight. and most boys are more insecure than their female counterparts... but no one speaks.

the day that i realized these facts is the day that i began to trust only the words i wrote on paper. the boredom made me write, but now i write to breathe.

wrinkled t-shirts for dresses and worn in converse
she stopped brushing her hair, wiped off her makeup
because she knew he liked it that way
and she learned to like it that way too
freckled and bare
tangles and knots
reminding her of his effortless beauty
someone told her that beauty fades, but she ignored them
well time was fleeting and so was his love and she found herself clinging to something (someone) that didn't exist anymore
craving what was lost
but ****
he's still beautiful, painfully and viciously beautiful
knots and tangles and tangles and knots
and she misses his hands running through them

-- on hearing bad news, feeling unloved, and encountering other situations that throw you for a loop

from now on I'll choose to be happy and I won't regret a thing
it'll be like cold toes in the shade and the size of your handwriting (love-hate)
we'll kiss and kiss and yes once more
now I'm twirling around you with dancing grass while you sing me words of today
don't forget that we can't bring yesterday or tomorrow with us

from now on I'll choose to be happy and I won't regret a thing
even if dinner makes my belly poke out further than I want
and I don't think your mom likes me too much
I'll remember that He calls us Beloved and there's nothing wrong with feeling out of control every now and then

from now on I'll choose to be happy and I won't regret a thing
I'll tell you I have a secret that slips in and out of my ribcage
and you'll squint your eyes as if sunbeams are leaking from my mouth
now i know what it's like to be bold and trust me I'll hold onto this day forever

from now on I'll choose to be happy and I won't regret a thing because I have so many reasons to laugh with snorts and sing too loud and click my heels together

I'll move mountains every morning and make this army of anxiety march right out of my throat

one bad day doesn't make this a bad life

come here and feed me words that will make me feel full again. i know your eyelids barely open in the mornings and it’s hard to understand me sometimes but please get up and stop my shivering. this silence is sickening. the overwhelming absence of everything we’ve known is drowning me. you know i need the noise and i need your secondhand singing and your father’s old tie with the marks that even your mother’s bleach couldn’t remove. distract me from the stains within myself. i worry too much; the moon’s pulse quickens at my glance. even she doesn’t glow in the same way anymore. if i stop pouring myself out for you maybe i won’t feel so empty.

we all crave strength. we want to not only feel strong, but to be strong. so this morning, get out of bed. do that thing, face that person. swallow your pride right down and show your strength through humility. put down the bottle and the fists and the phone. hold up your head, show your face, and say something. anything. he is strong and so is she and you and them and ME. we are all so so so so powerful and beautiful and wonderful. believe it, breathe it, see it, repeat.

emotions stacked neatly beside one another
like the novels on the bookshelves in your best friends room
each tucked away, exactly how she liked them to be
refusing to be opened (felt), for fear of their power
and then he stumbled in
lightly thumbing through the pages of many emotions
seemingly in awe of their beauty
encouraging their existence, giving just enough
only to slam them shut once more
damaging their spines
ripping those delicate and untouched pages
until every book is empty
she found herself shoulder-deep in the pages of past emotions
restocking her shelves (and wishing that paper could ****)

you’ll find specks of her under your fingernails
you dug her out of the bad days, the sad days
every single one of her mixed up catch me if you can’s
so she’ll be there
(even after you've scrubbed your hands clean)

you’ll find waves of her in the Pacific
and that water’ll taste like fine wine and her peppermint teeth
you’ll stop going to the beach
because it only feels like drowning

you’ll find traces of her in the pen marks of every novel you own
you never thought she’d read every one of them
(you never thought she’d leave either, did you?)
burn the books and buy a Kindle

you’ll find her curves wrapped around your steering wheel
static blaring from car speakers, it sounds like memories
but she’s not the crumbs in your cupholder
(you’d drive for days to keep her around)

you’ll find strands of her in your shower drain
oh how you loved her long hair
and the way she shined, unruly girl
can’t blame her, she’s conditioned to run

and someday when you can’t stop seeing her
you’ll sit there and think about her copper wire spine
(that stopped twisting itself over for you)
and sing about the way she lingers and lingers and lingers . . .

there's a sea of people, who have lost their humanity
and they are swimming fast, in the same direction
and they all know my name
and they are all just like me
there are so many mistakes to make
lessons to learn
cigarettes to smoke (or in your case, not)
youth
sweet, sweet dancing youth
an effervescent girl battling the monsters of self-(expression, understanding, and love too)
fraudulence
there's a truth behind the lies
once we find it, we will never have to grow up