tell the boy to wait up
you've got to sneak in a kiss
before he forgets the color of your eyes
and that once he thought they were pretty

you don't walk all over me
but I lay myself out like a carpet at your feet,
I spread out right in front of you,
right in your path,
right where you're headed
and maybe sometimes
occasionally
you'll step on the corner

most of my feelings are pointless insecurities that i'd be better off shaking out
BUT REMINDER:
AT LEAST I AM FEELING

and to be completely honest
things are never picture perfect
things never end up movie-like
our lives don't have automatic background music
and your palms will get sweaty if you hold his hand for too long.
sometimes you'll **** during ***
or you'll snort when you laugh
sometimes you'll cry when you don't mean to.
plans will fall through
or you'll be too sad to make plans
and most days you won't wake up stunning
even if you're waking up beside someone you want to look pretty for

but we keep on hoping

i appreciate having your hand to hold when
there are needles in my neck,
when time moves in ways i can't comprehend,
when the floor is slanted and my eyes are half-closed,
when my mind is at all even a little out of control...

being an adult feels like a joke
as if cigarettes or **** will change much
as if lotto tickets and *** and no driving curfews
will make me feel mature enough
to be considered an 'adult'

but being 18 feels pretty alright so far,
spending my first day of this new age
with you

god the way you say my name
(or anything)
is the reason i feel compelled to write the way it makes me feel

if i don't write it down
what if i don't remember it
(holy **** i'll remember it)