sorry for always mentioning you in stupid poems i write
sorry that you read them.
I promised myself you'd never see me cry, but we were drunk and you kept saying things that made me miss you while you were still here
and sometimes all I do is miss things that I haven't lost yet.
I tried to hide my eyes, but I don't think I can lie to you
so whenever the world catches up to me and you're around,
I am sorry that I might get overwhelmed. I am sorry that I've cried.
I can't sleep either and no lights are flickering but I keep telling myself that they are
and I'm not sure why I say "and" so much to connect every thought like a run-on, but sometimes when you smile it carries me through the day and i'd run to see that. But I over-analyze and over-think and will over-run my mind 'til I die and sometimes dying sounds better.
I know you know what I mean, and I'M SORRY
we all fake things so well,
it's human nature to fake every day
and god,
I am sorry I'm so scared that you are faking every time you whisper in my ear
AND I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY NONE OF US SIMPLY
DO WHAT WE WANT
(we'd be so much happier, I bet)
BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANT MOST OF THE TIME
and sometimes when you say sweet words
I know you'll forget you said them
and I'll think of them when you're gone
so sometimes I wish you'd never give me compliments
and
I am sorry
for it all.

I wanted you because I desperately needed to have fun and it felt like you'd give me a good time.
It was an accident, actually falling in love with you
but I knew I would.
I made eye contact before I got in the backseat of my car to skip lunch,
and that's when I ******* knew I wanted to fall in love with you,
and I panicked of course because I wasn't supposed to
and this is a story about over-thinking
and this is how I will remember making eye contact
and the way the sun was on your face and the lighting of the sky-
even when it becomes insignificant,
I will think about it when I no longer want to,
I will think about it even though you never knew me then,
and I was just a girl
with eyes
who happened to look.

This sounds creepy, but it wasn't. It wasn't me already knowing I wanted you..it was me thinking it'd be nice to want you. That you looked like someone I wouldn't mind holding hands with, it was '****, that boys lips could do a number of things to my body', it was a 'maybe one day I'll like him a lot, and that might be a cool thing.'

everything is incredibly fleeting
and i can't help but think i am wasting too much time criticizing my thoughts and choices
over-analyzing every decision I make,
I am wasting so much time worrying

I'd rather spend that time hiking or dancing or kissing this boy i know
(especially kissing this boy i know)
(or holding his hand)
(or saying hello)

tired of writing dumb love poems and going back and forth between
extreme assurance and insecurity
I
will
not
be
around
forever
tell me what you want to do before I'm gone
let's go ******* do it

I will probably glorify you until you fizzle and burn out
and then you'll be left looking at your hands
and I'll be wondering why I don't want them on me anymore.
I wonder if my love is like sparklers
whenever I grabbed one and lit it,
I'd be too afraid to hold it until the very end
I'd drop it in the grass instead.
Maybe I don't know how to love without dropping things in the grass
but it doesn't feel like that yet.
I will grab the grass with fists
pour my eyes over with soil if that's what it takes to plant flowers in my vision,
because I deserve to glorify a ******* boy
if i think love is worth catching
before it hits the ground.
Besides, I learned how to light matches
and now I never drop a stupid sparkler

I wish I'd start smoking cigarettes and giving up.
I'd cross my legs, ash tray on table,
and
sometimes
i miss my friends
and sometimes i miss the ones i still have

sometimes things flip,
like my stomach
or my nerves
or the tone of your voice