To the girl that now holds
every last bit of my happiness between her fingers,
i have a box that belongs to you too now,
i guess.
It's nothing special
it's just filled with all the roses
he planted in my brain in place of pain
and cocoons of the butterflies that continue to flutter
against the fences of my stomach
that have yet to hatch
and managed to survive
the avalanche of  
your arrival

We're emotional hard hitters
We'll knock you out of the park
We bleed words
And breathe rhythm
Our hearts pulse rapidly
And we're sure to write a poem
Or collection of poems
Just for you
We will tear apart the world for you
We will paint you the universe
But when it's over
We'll cry rivers of ink
And bleed puddles of tears
Because there's no greater love
Than that of a poet

go ahead and make complaints about the texts you aren't getting back but remember that i endured months of a screaming silence that hurt my ears and rendered me a walking empty body
sorry that i couldn't be enough for a family that set me up to fail the second i stepped in the door
he's bringing her places we used to go and it's to overwrite the data already deeply encoded
i'm sure that our footprints and traces of who we were are still everywhere we ever went because time with him was on a different continuum and they shouldn't be trying to upset the balance

oh god i would do anything to see leaves or fireworks or forget-me-nots or snow or tadpoles or anything extending beyond the current day

i'm sorry that our plans never made it to blueprints 

is there something about me that screams impermanence?

am i the human embodiment of a rest stop?

i hate your tattoos and the red hot chili peppers and the word "forever" never tasted so good until you kissed it into my mouth but i hate that taste now and no amount of alcohol or antidepressants can make it go away and my parents are worried about me but i'm worried about you even though i shouldn't be so i write these phrases that should form coherent thoughts but none of the words seem to line up and i'm not going to help you get through this because i have been where you stand and the power doesn't get to be yours anymore

don't tell me that we need some space
when there's 212 miles between our beds

don't tell me that i'm your sun
when you stopped letting me peak through the blinds of your darkened bedroom

don't tell me there's 222 reasons to love me
when you were only able to tell me a few for wanting to leave me

don't write public poems about me that i "wasn't supposed to read"
as if i were the one that broke your heart and not the other way around

don't tell me that i'm your best fried
because best friends don't hurt each other like we did

wait, don't tell me you love me
because words like that don't mean anything unless they have somewhere to rest