We collided through the slightest of chances,
somehow, at the wrong place at the right time.
Then you gave me the smallest of glances
and I knew I needed you to be mine.
I sat there teeth clenched and bloodshot eyes,
listening to you sputter and spew things
that should lead to our untimely demise,
and lord knows how much the truth cuts and stings.
They always say it's better I know
and you promise it won't happen again.
I'm much too stubborn to let this thing go.
I'll vent through the lacking ink in my pen.
And though this life might end in tragedy
I'd rather it end with you next to me.

you give me hope that there’s a god up there;
strings of fate sewn to hold us together.
long nights, car rides, loud fights, and tangled hair,
losing ourselves always and forever.
cursorial hearts destined for failure,
fueling other’s love with tales of our own.
time, width, or length is not any measure;
held together with the cord of the phone.
irony always was my favorite part:
"fear not until wood comes to dunsinane",
only as if the castle was my heart,
and the forest was the sound of your name.
it is crazy that even after days
the thoughts of you never do seem to change.

You are like the last cool night of summer,
bitter sweet and desperate for more time.
Words permanent like a concrete rafter.
Though this may not be forever sublime,
we have loved each other like the brightest blaze
that eventually burns into dark
remembered through eyewitness paraphrase,
photographs, and poems: everlasting marks
in our history together. Dismay doubt,
for this could last into infinity,
a shout into the void from reckless mouths;
one that could be beautiful; and maybe
the impending end of our story is near
but for right now there is nothing to fear.

I stopped myself from thinking about you
It hurt to much to even bare a thought
That you might be thinking about me too
And wishing we had never even fought
I wish I could curl up inside your mind
Snuggle up to all your thoughts and reason
But I lost that privilege trying to find
Why you kept hidden all of your demons
It was stupid and I know that this time
Just maybe you were right and I was wrong.
Maybe these secrets weren’t rightfully mine
But I thought if you were mine they’d belong
Now I can’t replace neither you nor them
Because you’ve left me alone and condemned

i'm 99% sure this can't be considered poetry, whereas it's more of a rant of the spectrum of human emotion that we all experience, that i can't figure out how to properly portray. even though i can't fit my thoughts into couplets or stanzas, it doesn't mean it's not equally as fluid or intense as another person's thoughts; it just means i'm not as eloquent.

i can't be the only one who experiences this overwhelming flood of impending doom in which everything good that could possibly be happening needs to end at some point. everything good cannot last forever, nor can everything bad, so it's almost as if there's no choice but to wait for the temporary happiness/sadness to boil away into each other.

every emotion is just something that's so temporary that the fact that this feeling is just going to meander into a larger pool of emotion that doesn't matter is something so terrifying that it causes me to almost

i don't know what i'm saying