I ***** apologies faster than the word **** can escape your lips after you stub your toes on the concrete ground / I jump to conclusions, or excuses, or explanations, or whatever, almost as quickly as you can sputter out your endless pathetic promises during those stupid walks on the beach / I can shut myself down emotionally in about as much time as it takes you to say that we're "just friends" after I throw my raw, pulsing heart onto the same **** cutting board we used to make sushi when I asked you if you liked me.

I don't hate you because you broke my heart not once, but twice, but because you lie straight to my face and tell me you don't get butterflies when we kiss at 3am too.

how do you politely tell someone that you cannot love them
because three years, one month, and eight days ago a boy stole your soul.
and how do you explain that you will always love him more than the rest
and that he lives in your bones
and right this second he flows through your vains
and waits on your lips
and settles like dust on your heart.
how do you explain that your body is a galaxy and he is the stars
and you will love him until the constellations burn out.

i love that moment
when a song inhibits reality,
and for a second,
(or a minute,
and very possibly maybe four),
even though you are here, right now,
you're also very gone.

and for that second,
a tsunami of feelings,
thoughts, and memories,
suffocate your heart in a seemingly endless chokehold.

and life comes back,
like a blunt slap to the face,
and you continue to walk,
but with nostalgia by your side.

when he dies,
you shake.
completely swallowed with the horrifying
realization that he's gone.

you sleep,
only to dream about how.
you wake up,
only to dread the reality of why.

the fact is,
he's gone.
he didn't feel the need to stay here,
so he left.

without a word.
without a trace.
gone.

and now,
all of a sudden,
now,
at this moment,
people express that they love him.
now,
of any particular moment in time,
he matters.

i can't help
but think
that maybe if he knew
that even the tiniest person
acknowledged his existence,
or maybe if that cute girl,
with the brown eyes
and pink headband,
had told him she liked
his shoes,
maybe he would still be here.


with me.

Contrast is beautiful.

Like how the brilliant, marbled moon
Shines against the dark twinkling sky.
And the blanket covering our feet,
Is the only thing separating us from the universe.

Or how the beating of a heart,
Pounds against a gently rising chest.
Providing just enough sound,
To make me smile.

And sometimes the owls of the night,
Hoot in the ringing silence,
Awakening my ears,
To also hear you breathing right next to me.

Aujourd'hui
                                                      today
J'ai trouvé
                                                      i found
Une lettre d'amour
                                                      a love letter
Que tu m'as écrite.
                                                      that you wrote me.

J'ai pleuré
                                                      i cried
Parce que
                                                      because
Nous ne parlons jamais
                                                      we never talk
Et tu m'as aimé.
                                                      *and you loved me.

Tonight I turned on my nightlight,
In hopes of it being able to lull me to sleep.

Instead, it reminded me only of you,
And all my memories were horribly
Bittersweet.

As the blood
Slowly trickled
And danced down his skin,
I ran as quickly as I possibly could
To him.

He suffocated in my embrace
And drowned in my tears,
But still all of my love
Could him not repair.

I cradled him in my arms
For hours on end,
Explaining how much
I cared for him.

He shot down every word
And pushed me aside,
Claiming that nothing  I said
Would ever fill the hole inside.

A week later
I sat in the
Third pew, fourth seat
At his funeral,
And placed a dozen yellow roses
On his casket.

The crisp, autumn air
Whips my flaxen blond hair
Across my face,
Shielding my eyes.

You pull back a strand,
One by one,
Revealing my eyes
To yours.

Your cold hand travels from my cheek
To my jaw,
Until your hand rests
Just behind my ear.

You slowly move your head closer to mine,
Pressing your chilled lips
On my rosy cheek.

At the same time,
A gust of wind
Twirls freshly fallen leaves
Around our tangled feet.

J'aurais t'aimer
Si tu aurais m'aimer,
Comme un garçon doit.

Mais tu m'as menti,
Tous les temps.
Toujours.
Sans explanation.

Parce que tu m'a aimé
Comme un père doit aimer
Sa fille.

Cet jour j'ai perdu
Mon coeur,
Mon meilleure ami,
Et toi.

Nous ne nous parlons jamais.
Et tu me manques.

So I sit
in my chair,
listening to my groaning heart.

And with a great sigh of stuffy air,
my mind is overwhelmed with thought.

Gentle, tender kisses,
slowly burn away my lips.
Soft-spoken traces of words
quickly savage my heart,
now gaping open,
spilling all wisdom and wits.

And so I sit,
in my sitting chair,
listening to my open, groaning heart.
I hear it cry,
contemplate,
and mourn,
and so I cover it up,
quickly saying goodbye.

A lulling head
and tear-covered lashes.
The most brilliant, consuming sparks,
cause the most heart-wrenching messes.

So I sit
in my sitting chair,
my heart healed from all its gashes.
The walls surrounding my heart slowly crumble;
the wreckage and disaster have passed,
exposing my heart
to the brightness of a new day,
a release from solitude.

Warm summer breeze,
Slow my heart.
Bull frog's call,
Soothe my ears.
My shining star,
Calm my worries.
Silent, distant lightning,
Remind me of courage.
Flickering fireflies,
Take my wishes,
My hopes,
And dreams.
Carry them home,
Straight to you.