Matches and fires, sticks with barbed wires;
Chaos and fear run happily and free.
Great big men in suits, and other liars,
Will be the first amongst you who will flee.

But amongst the chaos you see a group of hands;
You see they are locked; strong and unbreakable.
Barbarians smash their legs where they stand;
But peace can never be broken so long as to it you are faithful.

Those without fear and hatred, only love,
Will stand together and watch as their group grows.
Through all the hatred, rises a dove
And as she flies, you will see that evil hath froze.

But this can never happen so long as we hate;
Imagine the power and the difference we could make.

When we first said hello
It was unforgettable
It was awkward
It was real and magical

I looked at you
You stared back
We moved closer
And shakily uttered the first words
The first beguiling words of our relationship
Then we walked away
I looked back and waved
You were already staring

                                                                                    When we last bid farewell
                                                                                     It was unforgettable
                                                                                     It was awkward
                                                                                     It was real and detrimental

                                                                                     I was looking for you
                                                                                     You gazed at me
                                                                                     We moved closer
                                                                                     And shakily uttered the last words
                                                                                     The last agonizing words of our relationship
                                                                                     I looked back and hoped
                                                                                              
                                                                                                                                 ...But you didn't

He told me he is giving her roses.

The boy, who yesterday I finally admitted I love.

The boy, who the day before that , kissed me.

The boy, who a week before that told me I was his forever, and I said the same.

The boy, who has my heart.

Is giving her roses...

I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that “Van Gogh was her thing” while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,” on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I’m the song you’ll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won’t show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.

The words I can’t say to you are
climbing up my throat
I keep forgetting to breathe
I miss your hands.

03:00
When I think about never speaking to him again, I picture a girl walking in a crowd that’s all moving in the same direction, and then suddenly she drops everything she’s holding and turns around and starts running as fast as she can, smiling and pushing past everyone till finally she reaches an open space and her face looks like sunshine as her hair blows behind her in the wind and she’s free she’s free, oh God, she’s free.

03:15
But then I think about walking into a doctor’s office ten years from now and sitting on a cold metal table, staring at my legs dangling off the edge, waiting. And then I look up as the door opens slowly, not expecting to see his tattooed arms hidden in a lab coat, but there he is and, oh God, his eyes haven’t changed, and I can’t breathe, and he just stands there, looking at me like an unfinished sentence. Then I’d have to let him put a stethoscope to my chest and listen to my heart and I wonder what it’d sound like, if it would sound like messy half beats of missing him. If he’d be able to tell. If he’d care.

03:30
Or maybe the next time I see him, if I ever see him again, we’ll both be whole versions of ourselves, content and in good places, our lives all sorted out and how we always hoped they’d be. And maybe we’d be able to talk about the weather and our kids and the lives we created apart. And maybe I’d be able to look at him with only feelings of pleasant acquaintance and relative indifference, not seeing the boy I fell for when I should’ve been focused on catching myself.

03:45
And I know I should find comfort in thinking about how one day I may look at him and feel nothing,

04:00
but it’s four in the morning and I don’t want to let go.

it’s unsettling how many people i’ve had to beg to forget me, lately. how many i’ve tried to convince that i really am as insignificant as a stranger you made eye contact with for a moment at the stoplight. for so long i was begging so many people to stay, to keep holding onto me, even if it wasn’t in their best interest. all i wanted was to be selfishly adored. now all i want is to be left alone.

i’m always all too conscious
of moments hanging in the air
like watching helium balloons slowly
fall down the wall to cover the ground,
i keep stepping on them till they pop

like looking out the window once the suns starts to set
and you can’t see the light fading, but then you
blink and you’re sitting in a dark room

sitting next to you
with eyes closed and breath held
in a moment
that doesn’t feel real

like i’m looking down at the earth
while standing on the moon

and i know i’ll miss it once it’s gone,
but i can’t seem to figure out
how to freeze the hours that feel like seconds
passing by and

then it’s time
to leave and i held your hand
while you drove me home,
thinking about how real everything felt
with the lights blurring past on the interstate,
how i wanted the road to go on forever,
watching you rap stupid songs and
talk about how to feel grown up
without really growing up
and then suddenly

it was gone,
like it was never there

and i sat on my bed
wishing i could walk back into
the hands on the clock and
your hands on my face, but it
disappeared, floated up to the ceiling
carrying my heart with it

and all i have now are
memories that feel like dreams

to play back in my head
until time fades back into you.