When the stars shine
I close my eyes.
And when you look at me
I turn away.
And when someone cries
I put my head down.
Because I just haven't
reached that point of maturity
that I need to understand why things happen.

I don't understand why God
put those stars there for me.
I don't understand why
you would even look at me more than once.
I don't understand why people have to hurt.
And I don't understand why
I can't seem to understand.

Rosalie. She fit her name too.
She was pale as a ghost but much prettier than one.
Her cheeks were red; like red roses.
Her hair was so long.
It was an extreme shade of light blonde.
Sometimes when the light hit it, it looked powder pink.
She had the most enchanting hazel eyes.
Gosh, I got lost in those things so many times.
It was like there was a shot of magic in them.
Anyone who looked at her would think she was from a different planet.
She was gorgeous.
Not in some magazine-model kind of way.
It was an intriguingly simple kind of gorgeous.
It’s hard to explain it. She’s hard to explain.
I guess that’s why loved her so much.
She surprised me everyday.
I loved that about her.

I can't write about
how much I love it
when you hold my hand
because your hand
isn't mine to hold.
                                                                
                                                              *yet...

I stopped chasing
happiness and started
chasing you,
in hopes that maybe
your happiness
would become
mine too.

And I swear that in that moment
the world stopped.
And it wasn't good.
It wasn't like when
you had your first kiss.
It was like your first
heartbreak.
And even though people
were running around you
it was like the world
just stopped and cried
with you.

I can't eat.
I can't sleep.
I can't cry.
I can't laugh.
I can't write.
And you can do all of that.
Because you're not thinking of me.

it's easy for you

My stomach drops
when I think that I will never have you.
I'll never hold your hand,
I'll never sit by you and listen to you talk.
I'll never call you when something bad happens.
Or something good.
I won't be the one you hold
on rainy days.
I won't spend hours next to you
just watching you laugh and memorizing
every little thing about you.

And something inside of me dies,
when I think that some other girl
will be doing all these things with you.
*And you'll be doing them with her.