sometimes i feel it
the space between the words
where we look into each other's eyes
wanting to spill those three little words
as thick and sweet as honey
over the curves of our lips
and out into the universe
into the air between our faces
i feel the trip in your breath
like you're about to say it
cause it feels natural
as innate as breathing
but then you remember
and you **** that breath back in
letting the desire settle into your lungs
and all the while
i'm thinking it in my head
saying it to you without making a sound
over and over and over
hoping that if i try hard enough
you'll hear me thinking it
just before i let the words spill out
i remember
and i try to ignore the voice in my head
but though the sweet honey has not yet dripped from our lips
we can still feel it
between kisses
and smiles
and each heart beat
i...
love...
you...

i went for a walk in the mountains,
the sun shining on my face.
i thought of you as i was walking,
and the wind whispered your name.
i'd be lying if i said i wasn't worried.
to say i don't care would be untrue.
i hope that you'll come back to me,
so that i can fall in love with you.

i cried yesterday.
i cried for the girl i used to be.
so fragile,
so timid.
so afraid of not being good enough
that she hid from the world.
the pain,
the suffering,
it eventually killed her.
no one noticed as she slowly rotted away.
but we are organic.
our deaths create life.
and from that place she decomposed,
rose a new life,
a new stage in her evolution.
she was stronger,
more resilient.
she could no longer be brought down
by the meaningless opinions of others.
i couldn’t remember what she looked like,
it had been so long.
but i saw her today when i looked at you.
all that i worked hard to hide away
came flooding back.
the suffering,
the death,
and the rebirth.
though i felt different this past year,
i couldn’t quite be sure what it was,
but you noticed it too.
and now i know.
the girl i am,
is the girl who got over you.

i saw her eyes beneath the sea,
her seductive song calling to me.
it's a tune i knew, though something changed.
it felt like home, though something's strange.
she told me i could be free,
free as the summer breeze,
as it blew across my skin.
and she promised me a home,
the one i've wished for all along,
as she lured me further in.
but deep down i knew,
what she promised could not be true,
yet i waded in to the arms of the siren.

i hear the floor is creaking,
from those who walked here before.
i hear the pipes are leaking,
from all the winters they have endured.
i hear the lovers weeping,
for a love they have no more.
and i see the stars are twinkling,
light years from these distant shores.

suddenly i saw it. i saw you, but five years older. i ran into you on the street. i could see by the way your eyes seemed to hold the entire universe inside them that you were in love. i asked who the lucky girl was. i could feel the love in your voice, it was dripping with it. you said i reminded you of her, in the way you never had to pretend to be someone you weren’t. in the way her soul ached for the sound of music. in the way she saw the world through a different lens. i said the last time i saw you, you were so afraid to let anyone in, terrified of getting hurt.
you said the words i knew were coming since the day we met. you said,
“she’s worth it…”
i finished the sentence for you:
“… and i wasn’t.”
that was the difference.
when i looked up, you were five years younger again. and in that moment, i knew it to be true. no matter what i would do, you were never meant to be mine.

all my life,
i've been a victim to time.
too young,
an old soul,
born in the wrong era,
bad timing.
and now to time,
i surrender.

what’s meant to be will be,
and if that is we,
then i know it,
i swear,
then he will come back to me.

you were never mine,
but i was always yours.
i’ll always be yours,
if you want me.

i miss you,
but things have changed.
you are not the same.
i’m looking at this picture,
but there’s nothing left
of the way it used to be.

society thrives on our self-hatred.
so then to love ourselves,
not despite our flaws but because of them,
is our greatest weapon.

i’m always a little too late.
to school.
to dinner.
to life.
to love.
to moving on.

i never liked mushrooms.
too slimy,
too gross.
i woke up last week,
craving mushrooms.
it’s funny,
the way we change.

this white and yellow flower,
a wonder of spring,
given the name of a man,
who was no such thing.
a handsome young man,
a gladiator of greece,
who thought he was the best,
a person could be.
though they both are beautiful,
they share a name to remind,
that beauty is nothing,
if it’s not inside.

in the end of the day, we’re all looking for someone to come home to.

it’s so easy,
when they tell you about all the bad things happening,
to shut your eyes
and pretend they’re not there.
but you’ve got to open your eyes,
because the world is still beautiful.
i promise.

you were never some silly analogy.
you were never the milk to my tea,
or the peanut butter to my jelly,
or anything like that.
because those things can still exist without the other.
if you ask,
or if anyone asked,
i’d tell them you were the blood in my veins,
and the oxygen for my lungs,
and everything like that.
because those things cannot exist without the other.
if you asked,
or if anyone asked,
i’d tell them i cannot exist without you.

they call them winter blues,
and april showers
bring may flowers,
but i’m still blue over you.

what if,
the time we shared with every person we ever loved,
was made into a book?
which ones would you tuck away on the shelf,
lost among the others,
collecting dust?
which ones would keep beside your bed,
a fairy tale before you sleep?
which would you give away,
setting it free to someone who needs it?
which would you keep under your pillow,
because you can’t bear to give it up just yet?
which would you burn,
in an attempt to forget?
you are the one i’ll keep at eye-level,
so, when i see your name on its spine,
i’ll smile.
i’ll hope you’re doing well.
i’ll hope you found the one,
the last book on your shelf.
i’ll remember our story.
it was a good one,
one of my favorites.
but it’s just a story now.
and no matter how hard we try,
we will always outgrow our favorite tales.
just a bittersweet memory.

love seemed so pure,
i thought it was forever.
it was gonna be what filled my holes,
the ones that, on my own, i could never.
but my eyes saw more
than my heart could take,
and years went by,
and i found out what love would make:
more holes,
more holes,
more holes in me.
more than i ever thought there could be.
i built the walls
brick by brick,
and i made sure
they were layers thick.
it was the only way
that they wouldn’t be able to see
all the holes
that they made in me.
inside these walls i was enough,
and if i gave someone the key,
i know it, i swear,
i know that they would leave.
someone better,
prettier or smarter,
someone who could make them laugh
just a little bit harder.
and so inside my walls i stayed,
and so inside my walls i live.
and so inside my walls i’ll remain,
‘cause i don’t have any chances i can give

i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
i’m waiting for the wind to push me over the edge.
i don’t have the courage to jump.
the only thing that’s keeping me on the cliff,
is a shimmer of hope that someone will grab me,
and pull me away from the edge,
pull me to safety,
and they’ll squeeze me so tight
that all my pieces fit back together.
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
no one ever comes.
no wind ever blows.

you were the song
she was born to sing,
and all your lyrics,
and your steady beat,
played in her heart
on repeat,
until,
one day,
to her surprise,
your song began to fade away.
and even though it no longer plays,
she still sings it
everyday,
hoping that,
someway, somehow,
it will bring you back,
and you would start to sing to her
those same words right back.
and though her heart still wonders if you can hear it,
her head knows that you can’t.

roses are red,
but it is i that is blue,
since i can’t seem to figure out
how to live without you.