I wish it were for attention
or an accident
or a phase.
It would be easier that way.
Maybe then
I wouldn't be scared
to love what I love
Who I love.
Her.

You are reading this
as I am navigating
my life and
my newly discovered
what has always been.

Trust me.
I'd much rather hide
behind her hair
and in my room
tucked away
alone, together.

But my heart yearns
to scream at the top of
my lungs
that I love her.
And to say,
**** the World
and whoever is not ready
for Us.

That
would be attention.
And I don't mind.

I have made a mess of you
in my thoughts again.
I didn’t know I could feel this way,
neither did she.
Two hearts, one soul
Two cities, one smile
Yet we’re both scared
for different reasons
She feared I wasn’t real
I feared it wouldn’t last.

How do I say
“I miss you”
in a way that
will make your heart
ache as much
as mine does?

For some reason,
this is the one day of the year
where we place an immense amount
of pressure on ourselves
to have fun, to be social.
On Valentine’s Day,
you’re either with your partner
or you’re not.
On Christmas, you’re with family.
On your birthday, anything goes.
But on New Years,
you’re either out
having a blast or
you’re all
alone.

I said goodbye a long time ago,
But I can never seem to keep you off my mind,
What have you done to me,
How do I still feel this way,
What spell have casted upon me,
To cause me to think of you more,
You made me laugh,
You made me cry,
You stole my heart,
And then you threw it away,
Those memories I still have come back,
They appear out of nowhere within reach,
Why do I still feel this way,
How do I still want you,
I moved on,
But I guess my heart didn't
My sisters miss you talking to them,
I still long to talk to you,
I still wait for this sadness to overcome me,
I wish I could know how to talk to you,
I wish I could know what you think of me know,
But all I know is that you want nothing to do with me,
So, if you're willing,
Maybe another chance;

You are a novel
gathering dust on my shelf
but not because I don’t want to read
but because I’m afraid
to turn the page,
afraid of how you’ll end

The worst part about
missing you is not knowing
whether you feel this
way about me too.