the act of loving someone is when you choose to see Christ in them
and the feeling of loving someone is when Christ shows Himself in you.

Te/Fi
or
Fe/Ti?
Ne/Si
or
Se/Ni?
maybe I'm just well-developed
or maybe I defy
labels
maybe I'm schizotypal
but I'm probably just
Histrionic
and Narcissistic.
the clever part is,
if I wasn't,
I wouldn't be telling y'all,
would I?

if we've worked for ourselves, we haven't become anybody
where we go depends on who we're fighting for.

I know the way your breath sounds behind me
and I can feel your footsteps in my soul
I instantly know what you will do next-
your hips tell the story that your arms and your legs try to hide
I know where you are going and I can sense your mind
working through the possibilities
but I know next to nothing about you-
how do you sleep at night? do you write, do you draw
what does it look like when you are in love
I can trace every intricacy of your thought processes
but I do not know what makes you cry, or laugh, or think deeply;
I can name your fears but not your joys;
I can see where your eyes go and what your sexuality is,
but I do not know how to make you moan
or how to touch your skin as though
it is the only art medium I will ever have
I can align my steps perfectly with yours and I can know you
beyond imagining, beyond reality, more completely than any before,
but you will always be something beyond my reach.

why am I always so afraid?

rock bottom keeps getting lower.
time for me to rewrite this poem.
This only means I have higher to climb-
this only means bliss will be happier
it only means I can be better
it only means at the end of the road I will look back
and will know I've come even farther than I can imagine.

it is a strange practice, learning to understand someone
it begins with a rough sketch of 'the way they feel about
their parents' or 'what happened to their siblings'
and it progresses on with a Myers Briggs evaluation
sometimes taking their mental pulse in different subjects
marking what they care about and what they don't
enscribing the single sentence of their
self-worth, their desire, and their motivations
on whatever it is that binds the two of you together,
and growing with them and learning the way in which they grow
you know their crystal lattice and you know how it forms
a molecular structure in fractals, in fractals, in fractals
that builds and changes but is always quite the same,

I know what makes you laugh,
I know how to make you cry,
I have learned you and I know
which keyholes can be pressed, slid into, or clicked
I know of all your crevices and your breakages
and I know how to fix them or how to
drive a wedge so deep inside you that you splinter
I can map when your breath is short and I can chart
your secrets on the walls of my heart, kept there
like a case-file in a robbery- you have stolen
me, my very existence,
and there is an arrow and a pin and lines drawn
to every single bit of who you are
I have learned you, I have measured you,
you have been weighed and found wanting
and I know what it is you are wanting in the depths of your being
but the finding of these things is difficult and rocky and awkward
for you have taken what it is that is me and you have
patterned it over the immense and layered texture of you
breaking and filling holes, pouring into a mold
and I am invested, now, for I am made for you,
but there is no turning back and we must go on from here
I learn and change from the people around me
but first I must learn you.

It is a strange practice, learning to understand someone,
but once I understand you, then
now, now we can begin.

one day I'll be the right person at the right time.

dirt after rain
sunscreen
bug spray
cigarettes
grass
laundry
sweat
mud
algae-filled water
burning wood
marshmallows
the cologne Pa wears
the smell of their house
old New Orleans buildings
airports
hotel rooms
basketballs
woodburning
the lodge at camp
bridge cabin
the rez in the morning

day 1- excessive thirst and headache
day 2- sore throat
day 3-runny nose, panic
day 4- runny nose and coughing, panic
day 5- coughing, sneezing, drowsiness, panic, lightheadedness, neck muscle tension

Out of my window looking through the night,
I can see the barges' flickering light
starboards shining green and ports shining red
I can see the barges straight ahead.

Barges, how I'd like to go with you
how I'd like to sail the ocean blue.
Barges, have you treasures in your hold?
Do you fight with pirates brave and bold?

Out of my window, looking through the night
I can see the barges' flickering light.
Silently flows the river to the sea
and the barges too go silently.

I know you love me, but
what will it take to make you like me again?

it has never been about the things I was doing, for me
but always about how I felt while I was doing them-
my mom always told me,
"wherever you go, there you are"
and at camp, we had to suffer through whatever was thrown at us
so we learned eventually not to suffer,
and to enjoy the world, even the boring world,
if we were with people we loved-
so I have never checked things off a list, I have never sought out
adventure, so much as love
because I would rather be home with a friend
than in an exotic location, alone,
for the empty pleasure of having done it, because to have done it
is not nearly as important as being fulfilled and satisfied
with whatever it is you have
while you are not on an adventure
because if you look at it this way,
everything is an adventure already.

all those people who say 'family is first'
you are wrong-
your life is first. you are first.
before any arbitrary connection through genetics
and where you spent your first years, family should not be first
you should know that the family you choose
comes first, but even before that
comes the right to choose your own family.

let's fall tragically in love
drink too much
and then fall tragically in lust
because I would like to stop and take a break
from destiny- I would like to pause and stop
who I must be, for just a moment,
let it go, forget it all, make this night
like it never happened, no rewinds
marked from the record,
just kiss me, for now;
I'm tired of being dependable
***** filling expectations and following the path
moral obligations and saying the right thing at the right time
I'm tired of being looked up to
'oh, maddie, with the good morals'
**** being respectable
**** being responsible
**** having a reputation
**** it all- just **** me.

I crave it,
the smell of raw earth that is fertile
and pregnant with anxiety
newborn vulnerability mixed with a ****** innocence
desire, pure and unfiltered
in its most childish and embarassing form
the smell of raw earth is what I live for
when the grass has been torn up
and all that is there is possibility
roots snaking and enticing through
fresh ground, the birthing-place
of all things alien
familiar only to other aliens
I am new
and I can smell the newness here as I fill my lungs
with that which has been written and found filled
written and done,
dirt is the ankles of the world
the calves, thighs, and what's between them
forever moving and shifting restlessly, frustrated,
rising and falling beneath the soft fur of grass,
hoping
for the grace and gifts of the gentle soft
baby leaves and sprouts
to come upon the raw earth
and take it to its highest love.

"I love you" while you see them hungry should mean you feed them
"I love you" while you see them thirsty should mean you give them to drink
"I love you" when you see them naked should mean you clothe them
"I love you" in the midst of all this need does not say,
"I love your hunger, I love your thirst, I love your nakedness."
It says, "I love you, and because of that,
"I hate your hunger, I hate your thirst, I hate your nakedness."
Love does not mean leaving as be, love does not mean acceptance.
Love means feeding and giving water and clothing, love means fixing.
Love means love of you and thusly a non-acceptance of their faults,
a non-acceptance of their problems and their needs,
Love means that you must give, to sit down like the Good Samaritan
and feed the destitute,
give water to the man lying down,
and offer him your coat.
Love does not mean that you wander by the homeless man and think
to yourself how wonderful that person must be and how much you appreciate
their existence and how we cannot judge others
and how each soul is worth something.
In fact, each of these truths are true but if you believe them, you have
to take them to action. If you think someone is wonderful, I do not believe you
until you help them and show them your love.
If you do not try to help and fix someone,
I do not believe you appreciate their existence.
If you do not try and help the homeless man,
I do not believe you think he is not at fault for his homelessness.
If you do not take the lost and poor and needy under your arms,
I do not believe that you believe every soul is worth something.
Love means action. Love is not words.
If love is only words, it means nothing. It is not love.
However, we know what love is- we were given a definition.
"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."
Love does not leave hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, and lonely.
Love is not acceptance. Love fixes. Love does.

I'd rather write poems than do math
I'd rather exercise my soul than my body
I'd rather learn about Plato than the Industrial Revolution
is it too much to ask for an education system that
actually lets me pursue
my own dreams?

I used to be afraid it was written on my forehead
and now I want to *shout it from the rooftops

all I was searching for was me

Hey! Hey! Hey!
"I don't like walking around this old and empty house."
"So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear."
"The stairs creak as you sleep, it's keeping me awake."
"It's the house telling you to close your eyes."
"And some days I can't even trust myself."
"It's killing me to see you this way."

'Cause though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore
Hey! Hey! Hey!

"There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back."
"Well, tell her that I miss our little talks."
"Soon it will be over and buried with our past."
"We used to play outside when we were young
and full of life and full of love."

"Some days I feel like I'm wrong when I'm right."
"Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear."
'Cause though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

Hey! Don't listen to a word I say.
Hey! The screams all sound the same. Hey!
Though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore
Hey! Hey!

"You're gone, gone, gone away,
I watched you disappear.
All that's left is the ghost of you."
"Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,
There's nothing we can do."
"Just let me go we'll meet again soon."
"Now wait, wait, wait for me,
please hang around."
"I'll see you when I fall asleep."

Hey! Don't listen to a word I say.
Hey! The screams all sound the same. Hey!
Though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

Don't listen to a word I say. Hey!
The screams all sound the same. Hey!

Though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.
Though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.
Though the truth may vary
This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.

I've been fighting whispers all my life
people have been saying
"maddie's gay"
"maddie's a *****"
"maddie's bi"
behind my back
the whole **** time,
I got it, okay? it's not news
that people say that about me-
it's not a surprise,
don't expect me to be offended,
it just hurts when it's people I love
and it's really whatever
it's just I can't seem to avoid it
even when I'll join the religious order
later in my life, it'll be
"maddie's overcompensating"
"maddie's doing it so no one would realize she's gay"
"maddie's religious so she had to do this because if she just stayed single there would be questions"
what do I have to ******* do to prove them wrong
bang a male in front of my whole school?
no, there will still be questions,
"maybe she's bi"
I'd like it if sexuality wasn't such a huge issue
and if my mannerisms didn't cause people
to say my name like a ***** word
and if I could just act like ordinary me
without being put in a box
wouldn't we all?

The outer edge of a poem looks like a heartbeat
have you ever noticed that?
It's a unique trait-
it's art
The outer edge of a poem looks like a heartbeat
of someone who has maybe
skipped too many
beats
The outer edge of a poem looks like a heartbeat
not a bit like mine, though
mine's jagged
all the time
from looking at people not meant for me
and wishing they were
written into my
story
The outer edge of a poem looks like a heartbeat
the inner edge looks like
someone already
dead.

Poetry hurts.
It hurts to look at, hurts to read, because
it digs into the muscle fiber of your heart and burns its way
marking a fixed tattoo in your bone marrow
tearing through your brain material and ******* you dry.
It requires you to latch into the throttle of the soul and feel the pain
and joy
of everything you experience.
No, there is no escape-
explore your pain, stay there, fully enjoy the beauty and the frightening
love of this terribly glorious world.
Books don't hurt,
they placate. They are the balm on your poetry-burns,
allow you to view your pain objectively, to quietly observe
from a peaceful, magical
faraway land where pain doesn't matter
and that roller coaster is just a funny backdrop instead of
the vehicle in which you fall in love and lose your innocence
in the same run.
Books are the numbing, the morphine
to allow you to fall into an enchanted sleep.

We all need books and poetry at different times- to each his own-
but for my own part,

I prefer poetry.

Sun is up, expansive, out, and enveloping
Moon is down, within, internal, and intuitive
These two inside you are constantly connecting
It's impossible to be just one or the other, but if you're not, then punitive
measures will be taken to ensure we're protecting
that God-**** marriage covenant, a twinning of sun
and moon; a ******* that's worth correcting:
those couples that are neither, or only one-
Women are 'supposed to be' moon,
Men are 'supposed to be' sun,
But femininity and masculinity into our genders aren't hewn
There's some that are neither and none.
This isn't just one culture, not just one idea
The yin-yang is Chinese, the Word God's favorite son.
Within the human soul is the forbidden black María
we all know within us what is true and to be done.
Although I'm not of that culture, 'Two-Spirits' were a boon,
To hold a special place, set apart, but the white men have begun
A regime of 'this is it, this is you, you cannot sing your own tune,'
But lately, the real ones, the humans, we've won.
Hey, guess what? I'll break it.
Not sorry. I'm sun.

I do not want to marry a poet
I do not want sonnets written about the way
I take my hair down-
I do not want endless verses about depths within my eyes
I do not want descriptions of my lips
and metaphors about my pulse
for one who is too focused on the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss me
and no woman worth my life would ever
spend time alone, writing about me
rather than spend time with me,
making rhymes with our lips and
meter with our feet as we dance together,
alliteration in the way our hands entwine
and assonance in our limbs colliding-
letting our soft animal bodies love what they love,
because the only metaphor I will ever need is not a metaphor:
you are really here, we are really alive
and all before you has been a dream.

it looks so easy on the TV, for
people who are just starting.
their bodies entwine and
it's beautiful.
Everything flows from it
in it,
and of it,
and their souls seem to clasp together
in an unbreakable embrace.
Colors seem brighter
sparks fly
butterflies dance
true-love-at-first-sight.
They go on a date, two dates- it happens then.
A few months and they are living together
two years-and-they're-married.
it happens so fast
and too slow
somehow, they learn to live with each other
two people with complicated souls
who are not alike at all,
somehow,
magically,
kiss.
it's hard for me to grasp-
and I'm not sure I'd be able to,
if I had the chance.

I wonder why everyone can't just
flat-out, God-blessed, love each other-
freely, purely, and explosively-
why are some people allowed to hold hands on the street
and others must keep it in the privacy of their homes
some bodies must be hidden and others can be exposed
some kisses must be kept secret from those who love you the most
some heartbeats must happen outside of your own house
some moments cannot exist in the presence of others
and some lovers can only love a certain type of other lovers.
Why is it that I must be fearful in a group of people
that they can see my brainwaves and know what I am feeling
and that it would be dangerous if they knew?
Why must it be this way that I have to be in the vast minority
and that the chances of me finding someone to love is
minuscule and difficult; everyone is at a different stage regarding
my certain type of love, and it carries a baggage straight people don't have
it carries a complication, a heartbreaking rope of knots and pain and confusion
and 'do I even feel this way' because you have been taught that you shouldn't
and 'why isn't there straight pride' and 'just don't shove it down my throat'
these type of misunderstandings create this impossible disharmony
'stop queering the straights' 'oh so you're basically a lesbian'
no. I am not a lesbian- please stop classifying me and while you're at it,
please stop acting differently around me because you're scared I'm into you
chances are, I'm not. Please stop asking me why it's necessary for me to come out and say it,
its because every single other person, me included, is assumed to be straight,
and makes comments about dating boys and just boys and it's this eternal 'no ****'
and my own parents want me to bear children and it's part of me, okay?
It's me and it's my self expression and it isn't shoving it down your throat
I just want to know that I can still be completely me and still be completely loved,
that's all, that's why I have to say it out loud,
because it carries with it a kind of suffocation that builds and builds
because everything around you pushes you down and tears at your foundation
and when you finally say it, there's a pain that's gone that you know will never hurt again
but it will always sting, little daggers when your friends won't get quite
as close as they used to and your mom gives you different looks in public
or I am constantly misunderstood and misperceived and it's scary, it's
a scary world for us, it's a scary world for us, it's a scary world for us
and it will be that way until we speak loud enough that we are heard.

forgiveness should be as all-embracing
as your arms cannot be
your love should give
even more than your heart can pump
your mind can wander
farther than your feet can take you
your imagination can see
beyond the strain of your retinas
because you, my friend,
are not limited by 'human nature'
or your body,
you are endless,
and you will reach the tips
of the world
and backwards across the cosmos,
your soul will stretch-
it is not human nature
to be confined,
it is human nature to be unlimited.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

God knows what He's doing
every seed He plants in my heart will bloom or die
exactly the way it's supposed to

losing control of my own body
going crazy
being not good enough
hurting someone else
loneliness
dying in my sleep
that my parents actually hate me
going to hell
not living up to my own expectations
serving the wrong religion
not getting into college
losing parts of myself
becoming numb

how many dreams have I been in?

Why do girls lie to themselves and tell themselves,
I'm a six
when they're really an eight?
Why do we inaccurately portray ourselves
and seek to obtain these impossible standards
and gaze at our thighs for hours wondering
why did I ever let this happen to me
or noone will ever love me if I look like this
we'll hunch over our stomach rolls and wish
we could slice them off with a blade and they'd heal back flat, all the fat gone;
we'll wonder how anyone could find us pretty
and we'll doubt if they do
because the only boys who have ever been nice to us
are either playing a cruel joke
or are our fathers.
But here's some news: who you are is not defined by your poundage or the amount of lipids stored under your chin,
when you sit down, how far your thighs push out;
or even that terrible bit of fat under your arms
when you wave bye to your gorgeously thin friends.
Who you are is not merely 'pretty'
or 'skinny'
and I desperately don't want you judging yourself
on what some boy's favorite part of your body is
or what passerby think of your ***-
your body is more than skin deep,
your body is more than fat,
you have muscles and organs and things too,
there are more important things, like how
strong your heart is or how many gasps your lungs have had-
those things make you a valuable, important human being
because fat- well- that's not what makes you who you are.
And that's not what I love you for, because darling,
my favorite part of your body is your mind.

But I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face
Light up again

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find, you and I collide

I'm quiet, you know
You make a first impression
I've found I'm scared to know
I'm always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the stars refuse to shine
Out of the back you fall in time
I somehow find, you and I collide

if being an adult means doing what you've always done
even though the alternative is better
forgive me, I won't join you.

"taking away hope slow like that,
that's like giving somebody a little less air to breathe
every day, until they die."
I have always measured the goodness of things
by three scales: suffocation, nausea, and pain
there are some that are just suffocating,
those are the 'numbing evils',
some that are just painful,
those are the 'agonizing evils',
those that are just nauseating,
those are the 'sinful evils'
there are some things that are
suffocating and nauseating that don't induce pain
those are the 'unsettling evils'
there are some that are nauseating and painful
that do not suffocate
those are the 'violent evils'
and there are some
that are suffocating and painful, but
for some reason, have never felt anything but right-
that is called 'love'.

I like the way your cheeks turn red when you're embarrassed,
or sometimes for no reason at all.
I like the way you say 'God Maddie'
I like when we are REALLY talking about
something else entirely.
I like your hair.
and I like when you let me play with it,
and I like how tenderheaded you are,
because I have to be extra careful I'm not laying on it.
I like when you get really excited about something
and I can't understand what you're saying.

and when people ask me to describe you, I say
you're short, quiet,
and that's not good enough, when I could describe
the way your eyes light up
or the way you say things,
or your mind,
or all the millions of conversations we've had,
or your laugh,
or your walk, as if you're the only one walking alone on a slackline over a mattress and you're there for the thrill.

You aren't a GPA or a collection of friends or a green-orange-gold-blue who is friends with a
blue-orange-green-gold.
You aren't even an aspiring pilot.
You're every experience you've had and every time someones' said your name.
and every kiss someone wished they had with you,
but didn't have the ***** to pull it off.
and every phase you've been through,
and every embarrassing quote from freshman year.
I wasn't there for all that.
But I can be there for the rest of it.

and I could write line after line and never come close. adjective on top of adjective with maybe a few verbs, couldn't capture you. or me, really.
there's a certain fire inside you
everyone who meets you can see it.
it's more than there is on the outside
and makes me want to burrow and dig for it
so I can be warmed by the gentle (or blazing) heat.
if I get too close, I might get burnt.
but maybe it'll be worth it.

I don't want to capture you.
capturing and owning and containing will slowly
**** your flame.
I don't want to change you.
I don't want to hold you down.
I want to see you fly.
I want to watch as your soul alights on the wings
of heaven, and the fire inside you finally finishes eating away at the outer shell and it
emerges in full glory,
and I've seen it for a long time and
now everyone can see it just like me.

You're looking for someone who sees things like you do.
I don't. I see differently. But at least I can try to understand the way and the why you see things like you do.
We're so ridiculously different.
but can anyone ever be similar?
Who you are is expansive and never-ending and unimaginable and no words could ever capture it. Who I am is completely in the other direction but the same in scope.
I hope that you understand-
who we ARE
is not nearly as beautiful and powerful as
who we can be
or who we will be.

I forgot how much I loved this life

you're ruining me

I spent my time watchin'
the spaces that have grown between us.
And I cut my mind on second best
or the scars that come with the greenness.
And I gave my eyes to the boredom,
still the seabed wouldn't let me in.
And I tried my best to
embrace the darkness in which I swim.

Now walkin' back down this mountain
with the strength of a turnin' tide.
Oh the wind's so soft on my skin,
the sun so hard upon my side.
Oh lookin' out at this happiness,
I search for between the sheets.
Oh feelin' blind and realize,
All I was searchin' for was me.
Ooh ooh all I was searchin' for was me.

Keep your head up, keep your heart strong
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set, keep your hair long
Oh my my darlin'
keep your head up, keep your heart strong
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set in your ways,
keep your heart strong

I saw a friend of mine the other day,
and he told me that my eyes were gleamin'.

Oh I said I had been away, and he knew,
oh he knew the depths I was meanin'.
And it felt so good to see his face
or the comfort invested in my soul.
Oh to feel the warmth of a smile,
when he said "I'm happy to have you home.
Ooh ooh I'm happy to have you home."

Yeah, keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set, keep you hair long.
Oh my my darlin', keep your head up,
keep you heart strong.
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set in your ways, keep your heart strong

'Cause I'll always remember you the same.
Oh eyes like wild flowers within demons of change

May you find happiness there,
May all your hopes all turn out right.

Keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set, keep you hair long.
Oh my my darlin', keep your head up, keep you heart strong.
No, no, no, no
Keep your mind set in your ways, keep your heart strong.
'Cause I'll always remember you the same.
Oh eyes like wild flowers within demons of change.

there's a little part of me that always has to lie.
like that girl I asked to marry me in kindergarten
or that boy who told me he loved me
but then I threw up because the idea was so gross.
or even the real reason
seventh grade wasn't my favorite year.
I've always had to say 'him'
skate over the facts a little.
just to be safe.
I have to pretend to be safe.

a house is not a home until
it has been kissed in
a single secret has been kept inside of it
a dreamcatcher hangs in a room
the porch furniture is creative
the couch feels and looks worn down
it smells like it has been returned to from the wilderness
it has been written in
a dog has lived in it
someone has slept naked there
a large group of people has stayed awake far too late
to wake up far too groggy
and most important of all, someone has fallen in love
in between the walls and themselves.

little, and broken, but good
yeah, still good

I shouldn't have to beg to differ,
the right to differ should be inherent-
I will willingly reconcile my views with yours
in order to expand my consciousness,
and eliminate ego,
but I will not beg to differ.

mortal body; timeless souls
cross your fingers, here we go

being demisexual is like
a soulmate alternate universe
in which my heart connects with just one person at a time
and their name is branded on my skin
and my lips only desire theirs
and nothing matters except them
it is like I can't make myself love anyone else
and I can't look away, I feel like I'm drowning
there is no other device that can keep me afloat because once I'm stuck,
I'm stuck- I cannot keep my obsession at bay
there's nothing I can do about this- my hyper-intelligent mind
gets caught on an idea and repeats and repeats and repeats
and that is all there is-
it is like a cute little alternate universe where true love stays forever
except, well, it's this universe
and more often than not, they don't love me back.

Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid.

Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth. Do not forget what you are worth.

It hurts me when you have to leave.
I never want you to leave again-
I want to spend all of forever with you.
wake up next to you, go
on road trips with you, make
breakfast with you, dance
around with you, have
fights with you.
I don't want your mom to tell us what to do
or your sister to yell at us
or our friends to third-wheel
I want to spend all my time with you
so our restless hearts can finally escape,
together.
Every day. No one else.
You and me.
Forever.