i want to know what makes people drift so that i can blow kisses at them and go the opposite
direction.

my heart missed the lesson on holding back
so
i swallowed my pride and got
indigestion

i'll tell you in the smallest ways until the right way
comes to me,
i'll leave you notes in obscure places and kiss your feet

you are the butterfly branched from the moth,,,



and you are worth the wait.

i’m afraid of social encounters, of getting close but no closer, of meaning nothing to another person, everything, anything, the wrong thing. i’m afraid of looking around and realizing i don’t really know **** about those i love. i don’t feel okay unless i lay on the floor at least once a day because there are so many things i want to touch but can’t-

like the rim around his iris or the unspoken thoughts that tie us all into invisible knots or the pain it must be to live in a house where your dad once drank coffee and read the paper and pet the cat, but now he’s dead and you still have to walk around pretending he isn’t in every inch of every room.

i have to lay on the floor because it’s tangible, reliable, forcing every bone to stay still, to stop trying to float to some impossible place where i’d be allowed to run my fingers across everything and try every emotion there is on for size

so i could stop ******* guessing.

—————————————————————————————————————-

how does one pain differ from another? why does cancer take everyone good? why didn’t he tell me he had gone blind, that day i went to visit? why didn’t his parents cry? why is 4 years later and he still fills pages of my thoughts when there were so many people closer to him?

all the good in me came from you

i’d be bad if it meant you could live the life you wanted to

——————————————————————————————————————

love=vigilance

—————­—————————————————————————————————

the best poem i ever wrote was slipped into a journal and never read because he was afraid of the words

——————————————————————————————————————-

i can’t get enough of you

my neck hurts from trying to sleep without you

life is easily divided into two categories:
things that don't matter being first

and then there's

you.

red patterned morning light drapes your eyelashes and the thing about love is
it's not falling so much as

floating,flying

faster than my head can make words for. so my cheek is on your chest, and i keep opening my mouth as if it will all come out just right

sometimes things are too big for explaining,
like the way you let me use your toothbrush and how the word guileless reminds me of you and how
i'd be hiding,darkening,drowning if we never
met.

it's okay, though. because when i wake up, your arms are my blanket and
unlike a dream

this is real.

swaddle
me
else
my
arms
will
flail
wildly
for
your
love

'i want you'


i think that means more than one thing

half open eyelids don't lie  


the sun is slanting on your feet and how effortlessly my back curves into your belly scares me because
i'm always falling in love with what is right in front of me

and this might be different.


'the world needs more people like you'


i had a dream that i was on a bus to the Great Salt Lake
dark blue, foamy waves enclosing us,

and when we got there nothing  mattered.