how am I supposed to forget you
if I you're the only thing I see
in everyone I meet
in everything I do
you've taken over
you're not only inside my head
locked away inside my memory
you broke free
now you're everything I see too

stop wasting your breathe
I just agree
so I don't have to hear you speak anymore
we are nothing alike
why can't you see the beauty in every day
why can't you expand my mind and encourage me to be different
how am I your daughter?
how do I desire to explore and love and learn
when you desire to live a 'normal' life
I get uneasy when I think about the rest of my life being 'normal'
I want my life to be filled with passion
I want to find new things to fall in love with everyday
You just want to come home after a long day of work

and I have realized that's okay
it's selfish to get angry at you for not understanding me
I'll just keep searching for someone who does
I am so grateful to have a mother who supports me in one way;
financially.
but who am I suppose to tell all my secrets to?

I hate you
I hate how you tell me everything I want to hear
to make me reconsider
that things could ever work out  
stop saying

"I miss you,
I want my hands on you,
you're gorgeous,
be my girl,"

oh, and the best one

"I don't feel like we are done yet.. but I know it hurts you so I should just let you be."

stop it. just stop. you're just saying that so I'll tell you the opposite
you're hoping I'll tell you to never stop
because you want the upper hand
when did love become a game

Someday I'd like to know you in all seasons.

to know your nose red and raw in winter,
to trick you and treat you in fall,
to dance with you at a wedding in springtime.

If this were love, it would be a summer love.
But for us, there will be no Indian summer.
The full corn moon is rising fast.

Someday, I'd like to know you in all seasons.

i miss you, still
no longer in a deep, aching way,
but rather in the dull hum of my car radio

i hope you smiled today

and while you’re getting swept up
in the excitement and mystery and
passion of this confusing, intriguing,
heartbreaking, beautiful life,

i hope you never forget what is most important

i hope you remember that
it’s not about finding someone to complete
and write sappy poems about,
it’s not about listening to soft music on repeat
with your eyes closed,
wishing you were somewhere else
or someone else,
and it’s not about doing well on exams,
or traveling the world,
or always being artificial sunshine
instead of being real

because it’s okay to have sad days,
and a number in the corner of a page
can’t give you lasting satisfaction,
and you can’t be everyone’s prince charming,
and while music stirs up something
so beautiful inside of us,
you can’t hide in your melancholy world
of D minor, forever

every night i pray that you’re not lost,
that you’re somehow finding your way,
and although
i can’t speak these words to you directly,
i hope you know
i’ll always care

Wish I could take my own advice
you can't control me like you used to
but I know (everyone knows) that if you came back to this town
I would crumble
I would be in a familiar place (in the palm of your hand)
a second chance to be exactly what you want
but why should I try to mold myself into shapes you choose

so here I am
reminiscing sweet summertime
how it always ends so cold
this 'oh so familiar' sting to my soul

maybe, I'm missing the point of this ongoing lesson
maybe, I need to let this autumn heartbreak build me up
instead of tearing me down
because it tears, and tears, and tears
soon enough, I'll be torn

I think the scent of bug spray on my palms will now forever remind me of you and the late night (early morning) we spent sitting in your car, drawing awfully unskillful portraits on the back of each other’s hands in 
dim light and 3 a.m. stillness. (I wonder if you could tell that doodling on your skin was just an excuse to touch you.) I wanted so badly to let my fingers find yours 
as we laid back in our seats 
and peeked out the rolled down 
windows at the infinite stars scattered above us in the 
early August night sky. I told you I wouldn’t kiss you, 
because I know my heart and 
how relentlessly it would 
replay how your lips felt on mine, and how it would ache knowing
 you couldn’t be mine,
 so I let you kiss my cheek instead,
 and the half a moment that I felt 
your unshaven face brush mine in the middle of the street at five in the morning feels like a fake memory. When you looked at me, I wanted to hide, because I was too afraid to read what words might’ve been written in your eyes, but I felt so content listening to the 
deep tone of your voice 
mix with the obnoxiously loud crickets singing in the trees 
surrounding us. I could’ve sat there with you till the stars disappeared and the sun took their place, but you walked me back home, and you left in the dark, and now I’m sitting in my bed thinking about how the hours between 2 and 5 a.m. have never felt so full.