i hope you sleep well and don't have dreams of cement blocks tied to your ankles while you're diving off the dock.
i hope your leather bound heart keeps all the ink in and that you trust yourself with a ******* pen, i hope you mean every kiss,
i hope everyone starts telling the truth,
starts making it clear,
"never let someone you love doubt that you love them."

i'm infatuated and stupid for it

i wonder what types of poems you'd write
i wonder how long you think about mine
wonder if it matters (it doesn't, nothing does)
except the wind
and the ride
and your smile

stop worrying so much about the future
because the future never comes, remember?

i like the needles in my chest
i like it when you wiggle them around
my flesh is so twitchy
itching lately to get you off my mind
but i can't manage. (i like you there)
taking in long slow breaths so my lungs don't bash my heart and ribs
trying hard not to write another love poem

but god, when you say my name...
-
i like it when my arms swim and float around the glares of light
i like it when my arms find their way to a place wrapped with you
-
this is a love poem

I am so tired of being the open book.
You used to tell me that I could tell you anything
and now I've told you anything + more
through typed words and glances back as I leave,
and sometimes it seems like I have no mystery left.
I am so tired of writing every ******* thing down.

Sometimes I still get nervous when you put your hand on my knee,
and I think that's important.
I hope sometimes you still get butterflies

remember to occasionally remember me