I had a lot of ideas to write about your soft sweet lips on mine or maybe about the way you'd kiss my forehead instead of french kissing because my mom might be looking down on us from my balcony, but then you told me something that made the green trees in my spiked up forest to start losing their leafs while they decoloured first into orange (when you told me you were confused and I thought: "Well we all are") and then into gray (when you told me we should distance for a while) and suddenly all of the leafs in my spiked up forest fell as fast as I fell for you but this time nobody caught them, they landed (more like crushed) onto the hard land and they broke and they were smashed and they were forgotten. Now I look at myself with some new scars and a new anxiety attack to tell, my therapist about and I wonder if you ever thought about the consecuences, or if you ever thought I'd care as much as I do, Or if you ever thought that maybe I fell for you as rapid as the leafs fell from the trees. I got a glimpse of your arms, but somebody poked your back.

Perhaps all I really need is your sweet company or something tht will replace my existance from earth. Because when I'm with you it's like if I were in heaven or haven or texas or back in colorado in my uncle's kitchen eating home made alfajores and my brother would be playing Guitar Hero only being 7 years old and me being 11. When I'm with you time doesn't exist and that's pretty rad. It's like we entered the narnia wardrobe and cuddled in between the bad witch and aslan and how they'd fight and make a war and scream bad things to each other but it's okay because I have got you and I'm looking at you and wow I really love the way you hold my hands.

I'm lying in a bed
It's not my bed
It's neither yours
And I can't make myself think
In different things other than
How it would be
If you were next to me
And the T.V is on
And my dad is speaking over the phone
And you must be at your basketball match
The one you were so excited about
The one I hope you do your best at
The one I hope doesn't crush your dreams
The one I hope doesn't make you too tired
And I have noticed I am becoming
Slightly addicted to write
Long and non-sense verses
About you and me
And whatever we should be
And I am lying in a bed
And it's not your bed
When it should be your bed
And you should be next to me.

Your smell is impregnated in between the cracks of my hand, each and every single cell that conforms my left hand tissue now smells like you, and I don't know wether to love it or hate it. I am carrying you with me wherever I go and the constant reminder that you were here and now you are not is always present. My hand smells like the smell I desire to wake up to, yet I open my eyes and what I find is my hand instead of your lovely eyes and I frown, you should be here

My hand smells like you and I try to ingest that smell until there is none left. Carry you within me and never forget it, to try to keep you in my head and make sure I didn't just made you up inside here.