I hate you
I hate you for choosing her
I hate you for not staying
I hate you  for not missing me
I hate you for the way you make me feel
I hate that you're the person that lets me down the most
I hate how you don't call
I hate the way you can read my mind
I hate the sound of your voice and how my heart skips a beat when I hear it
I hate the way my hands shake when I call you
I hate the fact that I still think about you every night
I hate the fact that when we speak your words make me what to write poetry
I hate that you live a city away
I hate that I still write about you
I hate that I can't kiss you
I hate that I would choose you, always
I hate that all of this doesn't matter to me.
Because I love you.

I almost called you at 3am to see if you were okay. almost
I almost apologized (almost)

Sometimes I wonder how things would've been
If we were still together
Stupidly in love.

My thoughts are so scattered
that if I were to map them out
one would begin at home
and the other
would end
in the
Andromeda Galaxy

Unsaid thoughts
leave me suffocating
they formulate into a wine
that will never
stop intoxicating

Setting these thoughts free
will only let more in
its a double ended dagger
pointed exclusively at me.

What hurts the most is when we stopped talking
I would walk home holding my breath
hoping that you were on the front step waiting for me to apologize.
You never were
and I hate you for that.

And so
The Boy with the sunflower eyes
feel in love with
The Girl with stardust on her cheek

I want to write poetry
but its hard when nothing aligns
and the words don't rhyme
and my thoughts are just mishmashed
into something I don't want to look into

I guess you really have to be good
to write something
but i'm not good at anything

I hold your letters with such delicacy in the fear that one wrong move will destroy them forever.

for a split second I thought I saw you in the reflection


I don't feel very great right now

****
****

maybe we're from the same star

I am just the background noise in everyone's soundtrack.

Drunken thoughts bring out our real selves.
Too bad we don't remember who we were in the morning.

please keep me sane (i  am better when you're around)

I am not afraid of you ( but let our hands accidentally touch)