You took my breath away perfecting your sigh
I lost my wings teaching you how to fly
you know, it cost me my smile to diminish your cry...
I lost my way seeking to find you a path
and my shine to enhance your glow...
I lost reason struggling to build your thought
plus my vision attempting to make you see
that I was manacled just to set you free.
to see you rise I fell, you deserved a fairytale
I gave up my heaven to put you out your hell.
I lost my grip keeping you in touch, my faith inspiring you to church
healed your wound I got a scratch, amputated trying to be your crutch
I hated showing you how to truly love
and to keep you on the straight I had to swerve
for ours was a seesaw, I lifted you high whilst dropping low,
I lost all I had to provide the plenty you sought
because I valued you so much I forgot my worth

take me back to the day I laid eyes on you.
so I can ask you your name and tell you I'm in love with you.
and maybe it sounds crazy but I'm going to marry you.
take me back to the first time we skipped out on class together.
so you can hold my hand longer and not leave me this time.
and ill tell you that I know it's still so soon, but I want to hold your hand for forever, through whatever, always.
take me back to the day you crawled into bed with me and held me after I had fallen asleep.
so I can wake up in the middle of the night and tell you everything I'm too afraid to tell you in the daylight.
and ill admit that I think of you every day and strangely want to see your feet bare.. and.. your body.
take me back to the night we tried to have *** but you couldn't stop thinking of her.
so I can tell you it's okay if you aren't ready, because neither am I.
and if you want to just lay here, just exist together, ill tell you that's okay too. more than okay.
take me back to the day I held your head in my lap and we talked about everything that scared us.
so I can tell you not being with you scares me the most, and my heart never settles.
and I won't admit it but ill tell you with my eyes that I want you to keep me.
take me back to the moment we touched other people and for only a second, no longer, forgot each others name.
so I can run away from his lips, and into your arms.
and maybe then your fingers won't find her cheek, and she won't realize your eyes are the darkest brown, but your touch can melt anyone like honey.
take me back to the day we promised forever.
so we can walk away.
and maybe then it'll save us the pain
of you and I.

I have had seventeen birthdays including the day I was born.
I have lived in three houses and two apartments, have had four dogs and five cats, have dislocated my left elbow twice.
I have kissed four boys and three girls, have been one boy's first kiss, one boy's first time, another boy's first "I love you", I have never touched him.
I have smoked marijuana twice and been caught once.
I have worn a bow tie three times, have been called a **** four, have hit someone for it once.
I have been a vegetarian for three years and have slipped and eaten meat five times.
I have been through the same divorce twice in one week because my mom thought she had changed her mind; I have never told her how much worse that made it.
I have tried to eat grapefruit twice since the night I regurgitated that flavor of *****, I have failed both times.
I have gone forty-two days straight without drinking alcohol.
I have woken up and mistaken morning breath for the aftertaste of beer too many times to count.
I have held three of my closest friends after they were touched without consent.
I have made the boy who convinced me to sext him even though he knew I was drunk apologize once; he never felt sorry.
I have heard the three words "I love you" from one boy, I had to tell him he didn't mean it four times, had to tell him not to kiss me six even though I wanted him to, reminded myself every time that he was on his tenth shot.
I have forty-eight visible scars on my body from the times it was too hard to love myself, have told three different therapists the same two things phrased differently every time: one, I'm sad, two, I don't know how to stop it.
I have cried three times in the past week.
One was over the three friends that I have held after they were touched without consent, one was over the boy who said he loved me, one was over the boy who convinced me to sext him even though he knew I was drunk.
I still talk to him five times a week, take one deep breath, count to three, and force myself not to pull away every time he touches me, spend the next eight minutes between classes trying to pull myself together, remind myself it was only one time.
I have not been alone with the boy who said he loved me in six weeks.
I have thought about kissing him every day for the past three-hundred and eight days.
I have had three dreams about him, each one recurring two, seven, or four times.
I have been reminded by strangers of the way he looks at me six times.
I have almost died once, drank four beers and seven shots of five assorted liquors, drug a razor across my skin eleven times, called three people for help, one answered.
I stopped trying to hide the scars on my wrist after thirty-four days of wearing sweaters in eighty-something degree heat, have seen twelve people stare at my arm, received disapproving looks from four of them, have never been asked for an explanation.
I have commented on how pretty the sun looks on the ten minute ride to school with my brother every morning for the past two weeks.
I have complimented at least one person a day every day for the past two years.
I have worn my favorite beanie at least sixty times in the past year and there is nothing wrong with that.
I laughed fifty-seven times yesterday.
I said "I love you" eleven.
I have chosen to be alive every day for five thousand, nine hundred, thirty seven days.
I have never made the wrong choice.