you looked at me,
searching for something.
thinking i would
draw you pictures,
write you songs and letters,
let my body become
whatever you wanted it to be,
fill your heart with
something
important.

there is distance
between us.

one thousand
eight hundred
and forty miles.

distance is terrible
but
distance is inevitable.

you could be standing
5 feet
in front of me,
there would still be distance

your face could be
two inches
away from mine,
there would still be distance.

your body could be
pressed
against mine,
there would still be distance.

Distance keeping us
from being one.

Lack of security.
Lack of trust.

Lack of knowing
exactly what you
think of me.

i want to kiss you and take you on walks heading nowhere and buy you cigarettes and read you poems and books and listen to music with you and make food for you and make love to you and just be yours.

dear boy,
i am broken right now and I think it might be your fault. I am so enlightened by everything you say and to be honest I don't know how to respond to so much you say because what you say is breath taking.
dear boy,
can you see right through my wretched disguise with your thick spectacles? everything I feel is portrayed in your eyes. you know how to read me so well. you know when I'm sad and when I'm actually "just tired." You lift my mood everyday.
dear boy,
if you asked me to stop smoking cigarettes, I would for you. because I am more addicted to you than anything.
dear boy,
you pick up my cold hands and hold them in yours for as long as you can in attempt to keep them warm. you put my hands on your face hoping that I'll feel better. I always do.
dear boy,
I want to read you beautiful poetry. I want to read you poems by andrea gibson and robert frost just to pass the time.
dear boy,
be mine.