Every time
I try to write her a
masterpiece
it falls short
in comparison
to what she has
already said

How can somebody be as beautiful as the poems they write?
I have no idea, but **** you do it well.

Freaked out like I usually do.
Told her I'd be better
apologized for being a **** up

she told me to stop throwing a pity party
she said she's done with that *******

Thousands of miles keep me from loving you.
It hurts to stretch the distance.
No matter how close or far you choose to be.

I need words that don't reflect myself.

Words that aren't empty.

Words that make you feel something.

Every time it rains
I'm reminded of you
And the way you
came out of nowhere
to let me know it's alright.
When will it rain again?

Small and simple
stretches before leaps.

I miss gliding
flowing
give me something simple

I can't keep inside.

You're graceful
And I know that you say that your shower
curtain is your biggest fan,
but I think I'm slowly becoming
your biggest fan instead.
I bet your voice reflects your soul-
dark
mysterious
tinted glass.
I wrap myself up at night
with thoughts of you.
And maybe I shouldn't be saying this,
but some things are too hopeless
to not be expressed.
You are beautiful in your everyday way of being.
Your language and expression
are artistic,
poetic-
breathtaking;
and I often catch myself thinking of you.
Even when I'm fairly certain,
you're not thinking of me.
I bet the dark countryside is jealous
of your enrapturing beauty,
and I'm sure that when I'm looking at the moon,
I can feel the presence of your soul.
I wait until the sun rises, and I bask in its warmth,
to remind me of the way
you make me feel.

I dreamed of you all day today.
Like a ghost
Your faint whispers
and grace
floating through my
head
I swear that I could see you
out of the corner of my eye
but when I'd look
you were gone
I knew you were among the stars
seeming so randomly placed
but in perfect position
as though they were chosen
by some great artist
as you fill my night sky
I can feel you
as tangible as mist
everywhere
all that I can see
all that I can think of
surrounding me
but every attempt I make
to grasp you and hold you
close
escapes me
and slides through my fingers.
Tonight,
as every night,
I will wait for you
and hope that it rains.

If I die, cover me in 10,000 roses
A rose for every love I've ever known and a rose for all the love I haven’t

Bind me in rope and tie it in knots
A knot for every struggle

Stick me with pins and lay me on a quilt
One patched with sin

Cover my casket with stamps
To send to all my lost friends

Put me on the ocean’s floor
So the Earth can reclaim me

But don’t shed a single tear, because I do not want you to be sad

Don't wait any longer.
Drop that blanket
and let me warm you up
instead.
Tonight I know
I don't want
to worry about anything
but you.

I don't remember when the **** my poetry became about pleasing people or getting votes or views.
I don't remember when my writings were only created to be approved by a friend.
I don't know when things became about success or money.
I don't know why it turned into pleasing a lover.
But as soon as it did become about those things, I lost my spark, and suddenly writing was a chore.
I'm done with burning in my small spotlight with nothing flowing on paper,
I just want to be free.
It's time I get back to writing the way I used to.
For my emotion. For my passions. For myself.

I want to tell you how much I hate you
But really, I can't-
I love you too much.
And in the end,
of all of the lessons you've ever taught me,
It's that words don't really matter.
Nothing I ever did mattered.
Art fades.
Words are empty.
Promises are meaningless.
I hope he makes you *** more than I ever could.
I hope he buys you flowers more than once a month.
I hope he gets you farther away from this town
where dreams die
than you could have ever hoped for.
I hope you call him handsome
and that you think he's pretty.
Like I had to beg for.
I hope the only thing bigger than his member
is his bank account.
I hope he calls you exactly when you need him to
not always
like I used to do.
I hope you never block him out
and give him the love that you're truly capable of.
Because I never got it.
I hope you heal his wounds and
kiss him while he's asleep in your arms
because there's no place you'd rather be.
I hope that you feel the way about him
that I used to feel about you.
I hope he calls you his princess,
his dolly,
his 3 a.m.
I hope you scream "daddy"
into the blackness of your trash bag
darkened basement.
The one you used to lock me in and complain
that we never did anything.
I hope you give him all of the truths
you weren't willing to give me;
and that you mean them.
I hope you never get your heart broken.

I so much want for you to have someone
that doesn't have any responsibilities
other than you.
Because you need someone
that doesn't have lifelong friends
or a connection with their family
or worries about whether or not thier
future will be brighter than their past.
I hope he picks out a favorite freckle.
And I hope it's not the same one as me.
And if it is, I want him to love it more than I ever did.
When you argue,
which you will,
because that's who you are,
I hope he knows how to accept your anger.
Your hurt.
Your torment

and unhappiness.

The way I might have
if I was a stronger or smarter man.
The way way I do now that you're gone.

I was never your number one.
You were.
And that's what's important
in a world full of people trying to hurt you.

I've had nightmares
every single ******* night
since I lost you.
But those are not half as bad
as the good dreams my brain likes to create
to play tricks on me-
where 'forevers' meant something
and nothing mattered but each other.

Yeah, I'm a natural-born ******* loser.
I'm fat,
crying,
and screaming.
A *******-born child
to a family that didn't want me
except for one.

When you told me you cared
that you wanted to kiss me,
**** me,
love me,
while your boyfriend was
in another town
and I believed you-
that was my first mistake.

Because you can't really love
two people at once,
especially when the only person you've ever really loved is you.

Either way.
I hope you get what you need.
Because my mind
heart
body
and
stupid pitiful
******* soul
was never enough.
And it never will be.

How many more until you're full?

I hope you find the one
that wasn't me.
And that he can buy you
that house in California
on the beach.
The one with the white picket fence.
Far from yourself
and everything you've ever known.

I miss her
She broke my heart and I miss her
When she said goodbye
and moved away
She said she'd never forget
we'd never drift apart
If you had anything to say about it
Where are you now?
Where are you when I try and talk to you?
Why did you lie to me?
Why did you say our friendship would never die?
I miss you and it breaks my heart that somebody so close
chose to be so far away

I never thought I could fall in love with somebody
the way I have with her.
I thought I knew what love was, but I never really did.
If you would have asked me what I thought love was three months ago, I would have said that it was hurting all the time.
That it was something that you burned up in-
Something that you find in the romance of hazy coffee houses and broken cigarettes.
Something that was unobtainable.
Now, she's made me realize, love is acceptance.
Love is making somebody love who they are.
Love is staying up until 5 o' clock in the morning just to talk.
Love is waiting.
Love is awkward.
Love is worrying about somebody, even when you know they'll be alright.
Love is a shared song that you both can cry to.
Love is a comfortable silence.
Love is wanting to be everything for somebody.
Love is a kiss that can't be felt.
Love is shirts on the floor and butterflies in our stomachs.
Love is her.

She was a poem
and every bit of her
was beautifully crafted.
Her words were chosen
perfectly
down to the last letter.
She sang to my soul
and reverberated in my heart.