You're in every moment
Of every day

I see you in the corridors, flipping hair out of your eyes like you're a member of the next biggest boy band

I see you on the bus, modest and polite, occasionally saying "hey" or giving me a look that breaks the lock on my imprisoned imagination, allowing the beast to run free and bring a flush to my cheeks
as if you can hear my thoughts

I see you when I don't see you,
in the crevices of the broken wall next to the canteen
in the corner of the room noticing me when I make a witty joke
in poems of infatuation
my overdue spanish homework
and the floorboards in my dance studio.

When I think of your smile it's like cuddling up by the fireplace on a sub zero winter day
It's like being mid jump after taking a bungee plunge
It's like being mid laughter with friends on the first week of summer

And when I'm actually with you - my god when I'm with you
All of Aphrodite's power couldn't change how I feel.

Love is never feeling obligated to text them back
but wanting to anyway
Love is wearing watches to make sure you don't break curfew
and then driving too fast to get home on time
Love is awkward hand holding in front of parents
and giggling about it later
Love is never actually saying the words "good bye" as you part at the doorstep
Love is racing thoughts as your head hits the pillow
Love is clumsy hugs and clumsy words
Love is pounding hearts
Love is nonsense conversations
Love is realizing that all your poems are probably about them
and those love songs are now what you blast in the morning

And most importantly, love is what I want to give to you

I carry the weight of your smile
like it is someone else's baggage that I am planning to steal
Something so desirable that I can not obtain on my own
I look in the direction you are in and I am being told
by the voice in the back of my mind
(that most of the time knows what it's talking about)
and it tells me not to stare
but how can I not
when something as beautiful as you
is in my sight of vision

she dances on the soles of her exhausted feet
moving her arms with grace and femininity
she kept her balance as the beads of sweat ran down her forehead
with great posture she bowed and no one clapped, so she remained graceful and left the stage

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

People don't love the way they used to. My mom taught me that. You taught me everything else. We, in a state of mock individuality, look for the good part of ourselves in others so we have a good reason to love them better than we hate ourselves, because we are too afraid to admit that we aren't terrible things. So I keep checking my yard to see if you had been asleep when you crashed into my lawn (but that is never the case). And it's not even because I'm looking for the good parts of myself in you, it's because I'm just looking for someone who doesn't care that there is no good part of myself to look for. No matter where I sit, my feet always dangle off the ground. And that's what life is like : an infinite state of dangling; a throne of questions, and we never quite touch the ground.
Summer doesn't feel like freedom when you've spent the whole winter in love. Buried beneath the crushing weight of my own frozen apologies and punching my feelings into deaf ears like the clock on a workday, I keep twirling in circles, trying to check the serial number on the back of my neck in vain. I am falling, but not into you and so it is more of a fast crash in slow motion that nobody can feel but me. I'm tired of spinning. I'm tired of digging for reasons like a stick in the ground. I know I'm not a dog, but I never learn. Oh my God, I never learn. And neither do you.

I.
Sometimes drunken flowers are placed between books and
his lips are clamped shut
while i walk past trashcans and find letters
buried,
like his bones
with forced smiles carved upon each and every one
hands reaching out, grabbing
i could feel its yearning
from a mile away
and i shut my ears and clench my eyes
i can't stand the feeling twice.

II.
My soul was shot;
i later burned it with matchsticks and clouds
sand pricked my feet
as i sit for hours on end at gas stations and sidewalks
lamps were never lit in my house and
i was left
among the darkness.
i never saw you behind the trigger.

III.
I don't trust the black and blue hue
growing on my chest;
they say its from my heart.
I laugh them away and
tune out the rest.
"I have no heart, you made sure of that."
emotions i used to scorn and
cringe at
appear on paper and skin as words
that looked like my
splintered bones and
broken footsteps.

can i talk about the time when scarecrows were making torches and chairs
or will someone realise that i'm talking to thin air?©

Frozen roses lined her arms,
white frost tainting her heart,
red blood spilled on pavements
with snow to cover her cuts.

Rain splintering her skin
like broken wood in a haunted house,
her mind screams, throat closes shut,
the beating of an empty heart.

A thief under the moonlight
couldn't scream to save a life,
she dreams of smudged paintings and rusting knives;
fell prisoner to a world of lies.

A falling figure couldn't change his mind,
hearts kidnapped and nowhere in sight,
she was racing past the wooden doors,
to save an angel from taking flight.**©