Two February’s ago, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was anchored to my bed with the sadness I was letting myself drown in. Now, I daydream about surviving on 3 hours of sleep, I dread going to bed, I keep my eyes open as long as I can. My heart sinks when the sun sets, I crave daylight; I’ve fallen in love with being alive.

i don’t want to sit around all day
impatiently waiting for him to call
and when i finally hear his voice
i don’t want to feel like he’s
the air in my lungs i need to breathe
and when it’s time to say goodbye
i don’t want to fight over
who should hang up first

i’m not looking for someone
to make me feel whole,
because i already am
i’m not looking for someone
to save me because
i’ve already been saved

i don’t want to be holding
hands at the wrist so if (when)
he lets go, i’m still holding on

i don’t want in-between
fake promises from prince charming

i want diner breakfasts
at 3 in the morning and
long car rides with broken radios
and handwritten letters with
nothing scribbled out because
he doesn’t care about perfection,
he cares about being real

when it’s time,
i want to be in love
not in love
with feeling loved

So often I feel as though I am seen as summer rain,
someone who does nothing but
nourishes thirsty flowers in dry soil,
precious and beautiful and unable to do any wrong

when in reality, there are unseen, hidden parts of me
and secrets I’ve only been brave enough
to whisper to a few, bits of my past
that are journal pages ripped up
and swept underneath my bed

And you are my deepest secret

I took advantage of how you felt for me
and I made you feel like you
were dirt, contaminating me because
I was innocent and perfect and could do no wrong,
but that was a lie I tried to make you believe,
because I had convinced myself
it was true, for so long

I hate that I hurt you

And I hate that I will never
be able to take that back

I cannot stand the thought of you
walking around today, or years from now
thinking of me as a mistake, a waste of time,
a thunderstorm who did nothing but uproot
such special feelings only to
destroy you in your vulnerability

But I pray you don’t think of me at all,
and that you’ve forgotten me

because I cannot stand to think
you’re out there, somewhere
remembering me as someone
who broke you.

sometimes i call your
number just for a recording
to tell me that it is
no longer i use; you’re
gone and i wish i had the
chance to speak to you
just one more time, but
i know that’s a wish i’ll
waste on shooting stars
for quite awhile

so, i’ll see you in songs and
movies that remind me of you;
old poems, the whispering
wind, and my aching heart

maybe i’ll see your face
on a crowded sidewalk
one day,

or maybe
i’ll never hear from you again

“one day”

i’m so hopeful for one day.

I should’ve realized it
when you told me
that you didn’t know
if you were in love with me,
yet you had no problem
with saying
I love you
over and over
again.

when i asked if he had any tattoos, he said
not yet. but if i do, it’ll be to do with God or you.

it has been
76 days
since he
scratched
out
my name
from
his heart
and moved
onto
you

it’ll be to do with God or you.

i wonder if that line gave you butterflies, too.

i found you
but you’ve found
someone else
so i will not let you know

i’m choking on
questions like
was i foolish for
thinking your heart
could still beat for me?
and
am i selfish for
wishing it did?

i found you
but i know
you are better off
with me hiding
in the trees

i will not let you know.