"Write a poem for me," you said.
I couldn't so I quietly declined.
I watched you as you stepped around,
Slashing your paper sword in and out.

"Okay then, I'll make one," you said.
You stopped moving and concentrated,
Frowning. She teased you and you told
her to keep quiet, to which she did.

It was nearly 5pm and it was raining softly.
We waited for you patiently,
Then words started spilling from your mouth.
Indeed you made a poem with us as your eager crowd.

It was almost therapeutic, man.
With your gentle voice blending in the rain;
Like warm honey trickling under the Mediterranean sun.
Who would've thought that we'd be friends?

-m.b

[02/03 2:37 pm] Blue: I hate him. I keep staring at him from afar and then when I can't see him, I'll stalk his pics. Drinking in his features, scrutinizing everything, comparing to what it looks like. Always, always in my thoughts. When I'm awake, when I'm asleep. Always. I need to stop this. I haven't had a crush this bad in so long
[02/03 2:38 pm] Blue: When he's next to me I'd sneak some glances and have it etched in my memory. Like last week I noticed his long nails and how it tat-tat-tatted on the table as he waited for the page on the laptop to load
[02/03 2:40 pm] Blue: When he walks I see how he moves his arms a little. It's like he needs to keep moving and I find it fascinating cause I've always been reserved and try not to attract people's attention while he basks in them. Seems like he wants to fill in the empty spaces around him. That is something I wouldn't do intentionally
[02/03 2:42 pm] Blue: If he were a dancer I'd understand why he's so laid back, so confident with his swagger and he's used to moving a lot. It's really mesmerizing and it pains me that I couldn't get close to him. I wish I could see more of him and study his quirks
[02/03 2:44 pm] Blue: Do you see where this is going? I, a curious watcher, am filled with restless waves crashing when it comes to him but he is just the calm waters after the storm
[02/03 2:44 pm] Blue: So you can't really ship it cause it isn't good for me
[02/03 4:48 pm] Aphrodite: I, for one, do not know him enough, still. Physically, yes, he's lovely to look at. Absolute eye candy. Like how some people are to me. They're fun to poke around with and maybe flirt a little, but a serious relationship is hard with them, at least, that's what I think.
[02/03 4:49 pm] Aphrodite: I still don't know him enough to know if he's good for you and, trust me, I would want nothing but the best for you.
[02/03 4:49 pm] Aphrodite: How intriguing he is to you doesn't really faze me. I think it's adorable, and it's a fun thing to watch people gush about.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: He's a typical bad boy but I've seen his loyalty to his friends and his unwavering need to be with his friends. Maybe he's not too bad.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: You are an absolute queen and anyone you date should be on par, if not better.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: Bad boys are fun too.
[02/03 4:55 pm] Blue: Thank you :(
[02/03 4:55 pm] Blue: Aha I wish he'd find it (and me) adorable too
[02/03 4:56 pm] Blue: When will I ever find that person
[02/03 4:56 pm] Blue: But I'm not a bad girl? Idk
[02/03 4:57 pm] Aphrodite: Sometimes never, because you're an angel and everyone here are devils and they're never gonna be good enough for tou
[02/03 4:57 pm] Aphrodite: Bad boys don't need bad girls
[02/03 5:01 pm] Blue: Guess I'm ****** to be alone, unloved, forever
[02/03 5:02 pm] Blue: Idk but I'm probably uninteresting to him
[02/03 5:02 pm] Aphrodite: I highly doubt it won't happen, especially with the way you are and how your words pull people in and your voice breaks hearts
[02/03 5:03 pm] Aphrodite: He's nonchalant about the world
[02/03 5:04 pm] Blue: And I break a little on the inside for wanting to be a part of his world

Sunday I met you
and now it's Thursday
haven't left your bed
since

Spring weather so riotous
and erratic
love so dangerous it breaks
hearts and bedsprings
bent blankets and electric
tingles hands scraping
each other's bodies

there are drops of Jupiter
in your hair
and
laughing jewels trickling
out your eyes
a harem of moons
hanging from
your pretty ears
constellations your
background music

even when i look at your
night face,
comfort and in peace
i am reminded that
yes,
even the largest of bodies
can be coaxed into their
loving orbit
the lord of worlds
fits inside your
smooth palms
and cancer
is surmountable.

I feel like talking about you but I don't want to.
I feel like I should text you but I want you to do it first.
I feel like there's more to you and I want to get to know you more.
I feel like something is brewing but I don't want to hope too much.
I feel like writing more about you but my brain doesn't want to.
I feel a lot of things and when I do I want to turn it into art.
I feel like I should jot them down but my creative side doesn't want to.
I feel this is something else but if it isn't mine, I don't want it.
I can feel that I'm falling deeper but based on my experiences, my crush would never want me back.

-m.b

I'm already falling. I thought I had a firm grip on the ground but it slipped beneath me with each glance I stole.

I tried to push these feelings away but it's still there. Even when I had my eye on someone else, my head would automatically snap to where you are when I see you coming. Always with that energetic bounce. That deep sing-songy voice.

And when I heard that you like someone else, I feel a stab somewhere inside me. I feel the wound getting deeper. I feel the intense jealousy spreading; like an infectious disease.

Knowing fully well this will end with me picking up the broken pieces of my heart, I let myself fall anyway. I can't seem to have a grip on anything. Believe me, I tried.

Where I am now, it's like when you pull the plug from the drain after filling the tub. How the water gets ****** in like a whirlpool. How helpless. That's how I feel. I can't control these feelings.

-m.b

Breathing bodies won't hear me cry
and so I started singing to the sky;
About you. Your smile and kindness,
how are people blind from this?
The smoothness of your stalk,
the richness of your tone when you talk.
The delicate way of holding your
stick of nicotine between your fingers.
How you seem to fool everyone
that you're pernicious but there's not a bad bone
in your body, my sweet.
I don't see it when we meet.
Cause when you speak I see stars glimmering
and warm waves crashing.
The softness of the breeze
during a 5.45pm sunset, swaying trees
whispering good omens for hidden,
lost souls. You breathe in
life and exhale an aura of wisdom,
masked by lackadaisical freedom
of expression. They don't read between
the lines to unfurl your hidden dreams.
I could go on and on about you
but they don't see the real and raw side of you.

-m.b