I’m not supposed to speak to you.
It’s this unspoken law.
This girl code,
This human silence.

So,
I let my poetry speak.
Let my words sing to you.
Let my stanzas sway you.

I miss you.
[Let me say that more poetically.]

My soul is longing for yours.
My heart is crying for you,
And the tears are the bloodiest of red.

I miss you.

This isn't anything new,
But I can’t tell you that,
You know I can’t.
It would go against everything that society programmed into me.
It would go against our very religion.
[and you know good and well that we aren’t the type to sin.]

So,
I’ll let my poetry speak.

I’ll never know if you’ll get this,
I’ll never know if you’ll read this,
But there’s the chance that excites me.
The hope,
The glimmer, and shine of aspiration.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

I’ll leave this here.
I’ll cast this poem into the world.
I’ll let it touch a million hands,
I’ll let it feel a million tears,
I’ll let the millions of people think that this is for them,
But maybe, just maybe,
We’ll know it’s only for us.

The words are only for us:
I miss you.

Poetically, I miss you.
What other way could I tell you?
What other way could I reach you?
I’m not sure, So till then,
I’ll write.

how ironic is it
that a girl
who gets so easily seasick
and is terrified yet hypnotized
by deep waters,
is so perpetually
in love
with the ocean?

Cutting my neck open wide
to let you see and touch
what is and was inside.

Staring into universes
to taste what blessings are
that will eventually turn into curses.

Gasping in the foul air
that your lungs provide;
you lure me into your lair.

Feeding me maggot-ridden,
crying, destructive and putrid words
lain under the depths of your tongue.

Falling into my eyes
a devastating force of gravity;
falling into your own lies.

Your empire will sink
and your kingdom will scream
for its own destruction.

And until you admit your defeat
you will never walk in light
and I will no longer
stand by your side.

something.
is it the sparkle in your eye?
was it the crinkle in your smile?
maybe it was the way your lips moved when you said my name.
or perhaps the soft warm touch of your petal smooth skin.

something.
one of those things or perhaps the sum of them brought back feelings i had thought had been buried.
like spirits on a bewitched night, my feelings for you started to wake.
everything and nothing in me tried to hold it back.


you are something.

You think you know what hurt is.
Perhaps a punch to the gut, banging into the corner of your table, or your hair getting stuck in the car window.

I thought I knew what  hurt was.
Getting dumped by my high school sweetheart, learning that I won’t ever be the girl you want me to be, or losing my grandmother.

Sure all these instances hurt. But time slowly helps them go away.

But being hurt with harsh and cold words by the one that brought you to this planet might be the worstof all. It’s worse than the voice in your head constantly telling you that you aren’t enough.

Why though?

Being hurt by the person that is supposed to build you up and love you no matter what leaves much deeper scars.

It’s scars that harden your heart, your feelings, makes you numb.

It leaves your mind wandering, just like this entry.

You look at her,
She's beautiful,
She's funny,
And unique.

But,
She isn't her.

You look at her dark straight hair.
You stare--
Touch it even.

It slowly transforms into curly twists before your eyes.
You stare in disbelief;
Rub your eyes.

You stare at her round sweet face,
Her pretty eyes,
And her petite lips.

It shape shifts into a strong jawline,
Gorgeous brown eyes (that you fell in love with once),
And soft vivacious lips.

You rub your eyes.

You hear her voice,
It's soft and new.
You smile.

Soon her voice mixes into another,
It's so velvet and mesmerizing.
You can't believe it.

Everywhere you look, images of the girl appear,
Every song you hear is sung by her,
And every sleeping-waking thoughts you have is her.

Aren't you over it?

You tangle your hand into hers.
Hoping the image will stay.
You hold onto her,
Begging the feeling to never stray.

You coil back, and
You look at her.

She isn't me--

And she never will be.

Listen.

Can't you hear the creak of the floorboards?
Can't you hear the faint call of a name?

The house still thinks you're there;
The rooms still think you're breathing.

Listen.

Can't you hear the crunch of the frost coated grass?
Can't you hear the turn of the engine?
(Roaring to life)

The earth still thinks you step there.
The car still thinks you drive there.

Feel it?

Can't you feel the sweat building up between tightly grasped hands?
Can't you feel the head so gently laid upon your arm?

The hands still think you're coming back--
The heart still thinks you're beating together.

The image of you and her dancing barefoot throughout the house still flashes.
The sound of you and her whispers still linger.
The feeling of you and her still in love is there.

Remember?

The sound of the radio still statics in and out.
The feeling of warm love still beats inside.
The sight of a smile and laughter still is engraved in the mind.

Remember?

You and her together.
You and her forever.

Remember?

She remembers.
She still sees you dancing through the house.
She still hears you whispering love melodies.
She still feels you there with her,
Lingering, tingling, staying forever--
Haunting her.