you stopped
liking roses
when they
started to
grow out
of my
wrists

I HATE THAT YOU HAVE SO MUCH CONTROL OVER MY EMOTIONS, THAT I AM SO COMPELLED BY YOUR WORDS AND I HAVE NEVER CRAVED SOMEONE SO MUCH AS I CRAVE YOU BUT YOU WANT HER AND WHAT IF YOU'RE TELLING HER THE SAME THINGS YOU TOLD ME THAT MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY I DO BUT OH MY GOD I AM SO SICK AND TIRED OF CRYING IN MY PILLOW AT 3:AM OVER YOU

My heart pumps with a loudness that makes me want to step back when you stand close because you are a mini earthquake and I'm still rebuilding from the time you listened to me when I had nothing to say.*

                                                                                            j.g

is like crashing onto the shore
getting pulled back by the waves
with water in your mouth
and your vision going black
and it feels like somehow
it's never gonna stop

you keep on sinking
and sinking
and sinking,

but you never
drown.

and I swear to god,
he is Midas
because the memory
of his hand on my waist
makes me feel
golden

yes i smoke

i smoke to put something in my hand

to replace the same place your hand used to rest

so maybe its a force of habit

yes i smoke

just to keep something warm near me

because most things are painfully cold lately.

Who do I cry for anymore?
Myself or lack thereof?

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.