well
yesterday


you wiped my slate clean
i was reborn.
baptized


in a lake of sweat and happiness and tears.
mostly
your tears.

my ducts have been dry for days,
for days
days.
i had forgotten how to cry.
i turned myself off from feelings

to save myself from the pain of losing him.
but i still feel it.
little pangs, here and there.

and i hope you understand, because i can't help it.
i can't remember the last time i felt something other than content

when did i last feel pain?
mourning
grieving is hard work
and i'm too lazy to be sad about
anything, really.

i want something to tear my lips off
and pluck out my eyelashes

or run over my kneecaps with a truck

so i can feel connected to my own pain.


like i used to be
when i was 13
and suicidal

but at least i was human

the first step to all of this
is to convince you i'm not crazy

and the second step is to get you to kiss me

and the third is to make you happy.

fourth step, tell you that i love you

repeat

dear god
everything is wet
it's like *** in a bathtub

you asked me if i was a water child
the answer is yes,always,yes

and i keep trying to tell you with my eyes
how much this means to me
how much it burns in my



chest

how badly i want to tell you

that i'm deep in water-love with you.
this is the moment that has been eating away at my fingernails and teeth and the roots of my hair for days.
days.







so i say it

and i'm covered in you,
i'm covered in the scared looks you're giving me


and i refuse to return them
i ******* refuse
to apologize for this
moment.


i will live to be 749 years old but i will look back into your greyblueblackeyes
and know
that i made the right decision
when those words flew out of my mouth
and then slapped me in the face.


and i don't give a flying ****.
if i sink
in this waterlove.

it will be
the happiest death of my living life
and i've died more times than a cat

late last night i got home
and the skin between my nose
and my upper lip

was raw
from your mustache
and i didn't put lotion on it,
which is something i would normally do

and i didn't brush my teeth
or put my retainer in
and dental hygiene is important to me.

i just walked in through my front door and sighed a deep happy sigh

like the sighs you sigh for me so often.


my hand smelled like your hair.


and i've been taking hourlong baths
lately
which is something i don't normally do


my room is getting more and more ***** every day
and i can't find motivation to do laundry
(this is so not like me)

and i find myself daydreaming about you
while at work
and my heart starts beating.

it's never had a beat before, i swear.

and it's fastfastfast and
hard

like the way we kiss
but then we slow way down

and we play little games
with our lips.
i love smiling into your mouth
because i can't help it.

it's as if

we have known each other forever.
but i'm really glad we met last week.


because i know that

if you had known me when i was
suicidal
drugged up
glazed over ritalin eyes
sappy dramatic
lonely
teenage hormones
with an extra kick



in the chest



you would have ran in the other direction.

i'm listening to our breath
and the buzzing of a minnesota mosquito
in my ear




i fall
deeper and deeper
into the pavement
and the grass
and the air
and you.


and it's easy.
there isn't anything important
that i have to do in the morning.

so this can just last.
if you want.




because this is different from anything
i've ever seen
heard
tasted
smelled
felt
before.

it looks like the minneapolis skyline peeping over deepdark water
it sounds like a mosquito buzzing in my ear, alongside your nose breathing
it tastes like the saltwateronmyupper lip
smells like sunshine burnt skin and long grass and sweaty armpits(myfavoritesmell)

feels
like
joy.

i don't know
if i like the fuzz on your earlobes
more
or less
than anyone else's.
and i'm only telling you this

because i don't want to you feel too special
when you don't deserve it

but i wish i had kissed your ears.

i really regret that
but you would probably have pulled away

and then i wouldn't be writing this stupid ******* poem about absolutely nothing and calling it art