we have that kind of love
but i never thought about it as love

we spend countless hours together, jokingly insulting each other, pushing each others buttons, talking about the reason of living, revealing sinful kinks, our favorite thing about this expanding universe we look up at, how all the stars are dead when we see them, and wonder if people will find us beautiful if when we are already dead.
we talk about the boys at school, and the young men in our friend groups how they are so corny and cute, but have that cute boyish handsome charm to them, each and every one of them, and sometimes we joke about dating them, but it's really scary if you imagine it.
i find myself in you and i wish i could be more like you, while you find yourself in me, and you aspire to be more like me, yet we are never happy being ourselves but being each other, and being each others.

and i think that's why it's love.
that kind of love.

my mind is like a keyboard
too many options and full of secrets

if you press the right simple combination of keys, i'll speak a phrase

if you type the correct complex code, a beautiful noise emits
                               incorrectly though, i scream in agony

sometimes my keys pop right off, but you can always put them back on easily. i forget about the whole incident even occuring

other times, my keys just get stuck because you spilled something bad there, and the memories get stuck there, and they won't go away no matter how much we try

you could always get a new keyboard or
                                get a new girl, like you always do.

i just wanted to be in your arms tonight
but i wasn't
and i never will be

because we are miles on miles apart
and even
further apart physically

its the time of year
where when i pass off
my mask to another me
it is not questioned
i can push myself deep
into the concoction of
the new year's drink
forget myself
but create a new me,
approachable and talkative
a real catch
the girl i wish i could be

then after the ball hits the floor
polluting the party
exciting the people
the new 365 days arrive
i'll be me again
until next year

my back hurts and has been hurting
for a really long time now

it's not just an ache when i bend over
or when i stand too long

it's constant, reminding me its always
present with its constant throbbing

each disk of my spinal cord feels like
its carrying all my weight on it

but i think they are carrying much more
than my own body on them

my bones are carrying you
but it's not actually you

it's the old you
the memories of you

a genuinely happy you
the one i met back then

the one i began to fell in love with
but you seemed so distant

even though you spent every waking
moment with me, and only me

we were distant, and then you told me
you loved me, and wished i felt the same

flustered i told you i loved you,
i had from the start

we dated for less than a week
but i carry you in my body

every loving memory of you
of past you

in between my bones you sit,
closer to me than you are now

and sometimes i still think that
i love you, but i don't want to.

elementary school was a blur
until in 5th grade two boys
i knew were at my father's work,
ordering subway sandwiches talking
about the red headed girl who had
a muffin top. utterly disgusting.

i had not known what a muffin top
exactly was, until my best friend's
mother explained it and then nodded
in agreement, "i can see the muffin
top-ness to you. i can get you a diet"

in 6th grade, i lost my best friend to
girls who did not have muffin tops
and were not on diet plans, just girls
who existed and played the role of
a child attending middle school

7th and 8th grade was a jumbled
disarray of 730 days filled with
self hatred and self harm,
remembering my best friend
and the muffin top comment

high school! a fresh start, a brand
new adventure. i will find the kids
who know what a muffin top is,
and i'll accept their comment
and hide my low calorie meals

self harm followed with his best friend
self hatred and depression and
being anxious to eat in the cafeteria
so i didn't eat all of freshman year,
i sat in the hallway during lunch

sophomore and junior year i snagged
occasional apples and spare chicken nuggets
from my friends trays, but i never got
a lunch meal myself, even though my
family qualified for free lunch.

but senior year, i am changing.
for the better i believe.
i eat almost 3 times a week, actual meals
pb&j mostly, but it's a meal
the other two days i eat rolls, delicious rolls

i've decided that i am me, and i could have
changed it sooner, but i think i am glad
i hadn't for it made me, me.
the red headed girl with a muffin top
who loves feeding herself, and feeling
full instead of empty.

sometimes i still hate my weight, but
it's my weight, and i have to carry it
i should carry it with joy for my body
is not a chore, or dead weight.
my body is my vessel, and i love it.

i cried for a good two weeks
after the main incident
i had told you i was sad
but i never told you what else
i had let happen

i stopped eating and
i stopped trying to breathe

but

the body won't let you stop
breathing, your body knows
you are a holy temple,
made to love but also to
be loved.

i was made to love you.
but i was also made to be loved.