how can I miss
what hasn't even started?
why are all my loved ones
the dearly departed?
death has been kind to me
and didn't knock on my door
but why do my goodbyes
feel more painful than before?
summer is over
before it even started
childhood is over
it's barely even started
I long to grow old
preferably with you
but how patient can you be?
I hope you'll miss me, too
with a beating heart
comes a lazy spring.
I want to feed you strawberries
or make us paper crowns
so we can pretend we're kings.
but unlike my heart,
the sun will stop beating
down on my freckled shoulders
down on your luminescent skin.
we will have to keep leaving
to conditions less cold and barren.
I am the culmination of everything I have ever loved
every lingering glance I have let last too long
and affectionate syllable I have spoken too softly
I love wholeheartedly and with generosity
even in the wrong moments, unadvisedly
when feeling the rush of a sweet dishonesty
tied to the lips of those undeserving of me
I am made from the scars of my mother
and the labor from my father
but rebirthed every time I meet a new personality
my skin soaking up their congeniality
breathing art, tasting music, and living poetry
constantly yearning for different realities
yet knowing I find them between the cushions of your cars seats
through the window, in the silence, or right under my feet
I would not be who I am without the winters dusk
or every imprint left on my skin from unexpected touch
I am made of butterflies, meant to be everything I love
I always find myself thinking about who I would be if my life was slightly different, from a change I made unconsciously. I have loved so many things so earnestly, and I don't think I would be nearly the same if I had changed that, even slightly. I think I'm happy with how I turned out. However, would I even know if I wasn't?
you told me you were comfortable
after a night without sleep
as the sun shone through my window
and onto my sheets.
in that moment,
there was no place I'd rather be
than contemplating the sunrise
with my favorite person on screen
I’ll stick my head in the dryer
just to feel its warmth
and wear your old jacket
even if it’s torn
we'll have meaningless conversations
and I'll give you a grin
because bored desperation
is an acceptable sin
not a day goes by without you on my mind,
and how I wish that wasn’t true.
I try to convince you to roam somewhere else,
but you never had a taste for anything new.
so I hide the key under the mat near the door;
knowing you'll let yourself through.
and every single time, I regret it,
but you never seem to have a clue.
yet even if you won't admit it,
I know I'm in your head, too,
because she looks a lot like me,
and I never want anything like you.