I often wonder who you would be
if you never got cancer in high school
and you didn’t get addicted to pain pills
—if your mom never left  
when you were in desperate need of a parent
and you got help instead of radio silence
from the people that were supposed to protect you

I often wonder who you would be
if you never tried ******* or molly
and you took your meds
instead of self medicating
—if your friends knew how to love you
in ways that didn’t include
encouraging your addiction

I often wonder who you would be
if you started going to therapy
and accepted help for the first time in your life
so you could see that none of this
has ever been your fault

I often wonder who you would be
if you never locked me out
and you opened up instead
—if you accepted that you can’t do this all alone
would you be the person I know you could be
will you ever heal or will your addiction
take your life like it took your mom
and everything else
that was supposed to protect you

If I were lucky enough to love you again I would take you for all that you are. I’d fall in love with you constantly stealing all the covers. I’d love you when you won’t stop fidgeting when you drive. I’ll fall in love with you despite our foot height difference and I’ll run to keep up when you forget that my legs don’t go as fast as yours. I’ll fall in love with your off key singing and the fact that your car is more closet than vehicle. I’ll love you when you promise to quit vaping and then don’t. I’ll love kissing you, even when you taste like iced coffee and menthols. I’ll love you on nights when sobriety is hard and your blood is 90% whiskey, when your body is more pills than cells. I’ll love you when you try and push me away. I’ll fall in love with the freckles on your cheeks all over again. You’re selfless and vibrant. You’re loving and hilarious and oh so alive. If you allow me to love you again I promise to love all of you, for as long as we both live, I swear to love you immeasurably.

Growing up my father taught me
that if you weren’t first then you were last
so to me second was never an option
yet I have never been someone’s first place
I have never stood proudly wearing
the blue ribbon for winning your heart
and I’m convinced that I will never
know the thrill of a winners high
I will never be the best
so I will always be last

I used to think being plan B
was better than not being a plan at all
but being the backup plan will never
feel like winning
and now I spend my nights wishing
I was never in the race to begin with

Participation ribbon hearts
collect dust on my bookshelves
I’m always present
always taking part in the competition
but I’ve never come close enough to winning
to wear anything but a badge of
broken hearts and humiliating effort
to try so hard but always lose in the end
is to be a willing participant
in proving that I will never be enough

Today Snapchat reminds me
that a year ago you made me smile
and I feel a wave of sadness
for the happy ******* my screen
with tears in her shining eyes
I hear her say that she’s happy
and for a moment I’m envious
of her naivety of love

Today Snapchat reminds me
that two years ago we went
on our first date
but what it doesn’t show
is you showing up late in a ***** t-shirt
your eyes sunken in
and cheeks hollowed
from a night full of lines
and little white pills

Today I am reminded
that for you I didn’t have
rose coloured glasses
instead I had rose coloured irises
I was unable to take off
the admiration I had for you  
so I let myself believe that
what you gave me
was love

I still miss you
like you’re a word on the tip of my tongue
that I can’t quite spit out
and no matter how hard I try
you never show up when I need you to
—you only rear your head at night
long after my head hits the pillow
and my eyes finally rest
—only then do I remember you

I know you no longer think of me
I was never a fond memory for you
there was never a place in your mind
for my naive love stories
but you let me break my own heart anyway
maybe it made you feel something
to watch me shatter
and for a moment
you became addicted to hurting me
like I was your newest high
but like everything else
you grew a tolerance for me
and tossed me aside for the next drug

To the man on the street that called my ex girlfriend and I ******, I forgive you. We were nineteen and in love, I’m sorry that you were raised in a way that made you look at two girls holding hands and laughing as something that wasn’t to be shown in public. I’m sorry that my happiness made you feel insecure in that moment. My happiness was not on display to offend you. My love life was never an act of rebellion against you. I will forgive you for how you were raised but I will not apologize for showing love in a way you don’t deem appropriate for wandering eyes.

To the people I went to high school with, I’m sorry I never heard the rumours you spread about me until you were already out of my life. I’m sure you meant to break my heart when you called me **** in the hallways but your words never made their way back to me. Your aggression towards who I chose to love never stopped me from falling in love with girls I never imagined could be real. I refuse to hide away my love. I will not let your words shame me back into the closet I was scared to admit I was stuck in.

To the people who used to send me anonymous messages telling me to **** myself I hope you’re in a better place now. I often think about how my big secret made you so upset that you couldn’t stand to live in the same world as me. I’m not sorry that I’m still here now. I still feel sorry that you were so sad with yourself that you needed to make me feel as hopeless as you were.

To the people who voted no towards same *** marriage but watch ******* girl ****, I’m sorry my love is only okay when it’s for your pleasure. I’m sorry that you have such a skewed view on life that you see women as objects and not as people. I would forgive you but I don’t think you’d fess to your wrongdoing to be forgiven. There is nothing to forgive if someone won’t admit that they are wrong.

I’m twenty three now and I’m still not sorry for writing love poems about beautiful girls. I have stopped apologizing for being something that I’m proud of. I no longer hide behind my assumed heterosexuality. I proudly proclaim my attraction to women because I spent too many years being ashamed of being in love. I will never again sweep hatred under the rug to keep peace. I have never needed your approval for my love to be valid and I never will.

For once I would like to be longed for. I have spent countless hours of my life yearning for love from people who did not know how to accept mine. I have been told time and time again that not everybody will understand the way I love. Not everyone holds their hearts in the same regard as I do so they do not know how to return my love back to me. Over time I started confessing my love in front of mirrors, my reflection both the sender and the recipient of my love letters.

For once I would like to be the girl you dream about. I want to be on the receiving end of smiles from bubbly girls. I long to be the one to make brooding boys laugh. I am the only one writing poems about strangers I see in the streets. I make playlists for my best friend to tell her I love her but never send them. My love has been rejected too many times to take chances. I have accepted that maybe I’m only meant to dish out love like donations. My heart is spare change in empty coffee cups on busy city sidewalks.

For once I would like to be loved. Not just liked. Not just a fling or a fleeting thought or another notch on another persons bedpost. I want someone to think of me in the same way I think of them. I want someone to look at me and see a spark. A possibility. A future that’s worth working for. I would like to be on the receiving end of goodnight texts sent long after I’ve already fallen asleep, so when morning comes I can know I’m on someone’s mind even when I’m not present. Maybe someday I’ll be the girl you hear about in love songs but for now I’ll keep writing love letters I never send. Spilled ink will never hurt as deeply as watching someone you love not love you back.

I have always been weary
of putting names in my poems
in fear that I will never be able to take
my confessions back
but when is a good day to tell you
that I have loved you in every lifetime

In the past we were entangled in each other

One life we were shooting stars
another we laid lazily in fields of wildflowers
a love too strong to explain through words
so we didn’t speak
instead you embodied the beauty of spring
a way to remind us of those April days
when nothing existed outside of each other

We hid our love behind buttercups and daisies
maybe that’s why I love to bring you flowers
to feel the flicker of a spark we shared
in a lifetime so long ago

In another lifetime we read quietly together
over coffee in smoky French cafe’s
we underlined passages
that we would read each other in secret
our love withstanding a time
when it was criminal to look at one another
with the type of love we shared

I don’t know if I have ever loved you loudly
there are no muscle memories
of me shouting your name from rooftops
or unapologetically holding your hand
without fear of repercussions
—even now I don’t know how to form the words
“I love you”
without looking around to see who’s listening
even after all this time I love you in secret
I still can’t put your name in my poems
but i promise in one of our lifetimes
I’ll write your name in every poem
and tell you that I’m in love with you out loud
someday the words
won’t feel stuck in my throat
but I hope that’s in a lifetime sooner than later