Love *****,
Because I thought I'd finally moved on,
Until I saw your name appear on my screen.
I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat.

My God, what even am I?

branches are
sprouting out of my heart
and ripping
through my rib cage

my bones are shattering
as I shiver from the growth

it's all so sudden,
I feel like someone's squeezed me like a squeaky toy with it eyes
popping out of its sockets

except they're no longer attached and they're hurtling through space
at a trillion light years per second

I know I'm here to break my heart open as wide as I can so let me carve it into the bark so you can taste the sap

I'm a hall of mirrors
with many twisted reflections

I'm the shattered mirror
on your bathroom wall

They call me Narcissus

I look into the river and
fall in love with the
reflection in the
shimmering water

I go to kiss it

and my shadow falls
around it

My vision blurs
and it goes out of focus

Warm lips
Ice cold water

My heart had your name
written on it so clearly
but your heart
only had a small smudge
where my name should have been.

If I wear the right shirt
Is that how you'll fall in love with me?
If I groove the way you like
If I nod my head just right
If I wear the right shirt
Is that how you'll fall in love with me?

Do you remember the day we bought our beers, packed our bags and made our own party on the hill beside our building? It was just you and me and the sun. We were celebrating the first warm day of spring, but you still insisted on stouts, and they quickly lost their cool in the sunlight but I didn't mind. I brought my camera and photographed the wind curling through that blue and green sundress you loved, and you danced as if you were a leaf in autumn.

Until you spilled your beer, to which I reacted only with regrettable anger. You stopped dancing.

That lead us inside, away from the sunlight, to end the memory. You never wore that sundress again, and didn't enjoy those stouts the same way. We never celebrated another change of season, and I never again photographed you in the wind.

Is it really a healthy outlet,
Or does it cause me
to dwell on my pain?

Will I still want to write
if I become a healthy person?

I guess it would be okay if I don't;
I don't like writing enough
to stay this miserable

Maybe some day
I won't like the idea of her enough
to stay this miserable

I think of you, early and often
When I wake you tip toe your way across my lips
I think you have unfinished business there
You twist your way into my words, rest easy in my breath
I never meant to soak you in
You tangle your life with mine, like your finger 'round your ribbons of hair
The world around me is ripe with nostalgia
Dripping sticky sweet memories of you, like syrup
You told me if we were born flying, we would spend our lives wishing we could walk
But we flew together
And walking just isnt doing it for me anymore