This story must not be written for me

No. No. not for me.

Not for me to tell

Not for me to decipher the twisted glances at the unseen truth

Not for me to hold the upstanding citizen

Quivering like a child at its first chance alone.

I Bury myself up

Tuck my chin beneath the sheets

Beneath the very sheets that touched our skin

Bury me beneath the tired old tree.

But do not leave me there

Bending there I pray before

Screaming “save me, save me”

But like a tree lonely in a forest

You forgot me.

Oh, how I miss you.
                How I miss your hugs.
       How I miss your kisses.
How I miss the days spent with you.
      How I miss how you called me beautiful.
                  How I miss never wanting to let go.
I miss how you never let me forget how much you loved me,
how much you cared, and how much you didn't want to leave.
I'm missing you when I shouldn't,
                  Because missing you is like pouring cement on your heart,
           It becomes heavy and you can't lift it.
   I hate missing you.......... but I love you too much to let you go.

Longing gazes during science.
'Accidental' phone calls at midnight.
The way that forest green compliments you skin.

Your strong arms,
Your soft hair,
Your kind eyes,
Your beautiful smile.

Though we've known of each other for years,
I can't say I've ever really known you.

But I want to, I've always wanted to.

I've always felt this way.

Thought I'd grow out of it...
Guess not.

blanket my sorrow under pretty white flakes
freeze the memories beneath cold waters
carry away my heartache on frosty winds
oh, dear snow,
fall until there's nothing left
swallow me whole
help me to forget
just a bit longer
maybe come spring time
I'll be just a little stronger.

you wrote a poem once about how i was a flower and you were a monster and you dropped your grape juice on my white peddles
you spelled petals wrong
and that bothered me
but the idea that i was beautiful enough to be somebody's muse
well
i was willing to overlook the fact that you weren't good with hearts, so of course your faults with words meant very little to me
i dreamed in purple once
and grape was the taste on my tongue when i woke, which was silly
because your poem didn't really say anything about knocking a glass onto me like a paperweight to watch me suffocate as its juicy contents stained me violet
i just thought it sounded lovelier as a white lie
like you didn't mean to hurt me and it was just an accident

you told me later you made me a flower because they are at the mercy of whoever plucks them from the garden
and that's when i knew that you knew you had bruised me purple on purpose
i just don't like to think about the part where you are a monster

he handed me the sky in a pitcher
and told me to bathe in it
so i undid my hair and my shirt and slid into the ocean that frothed over with white clouds and swirled like the mist in hot chocolate
and as he watched me i had a thought and asked if he fished out the sunlight on purpose
because that was my favorite part
well
he leaned across the cold bathtub, took my face in his hands
his eyes fluttered shut, and he whispered
you are the sun