you told me that i belonged in the louvre
me, with my curtain of dark blonde hair that
i was (trying) to grow out to where it was
before i ceremoniously cut it all off
and that statement was followed with
not one
but two heart emojis
after that i trusted you (though i don’t know why)
the way you wormed your way into my head
deserves some sort of award
for months, before i even liked you, i would
dream about you almost every night
and i know that sounds crazy, but it happened
so i said that i liked you (indirectly)
but you told me you loved someone else (directly)
only, you said i belonged in the
i guess i never knew that i was meant to be
by myself there, a mona lisa smile on my face
waiting for you to come take me off the wall
and make me feel worthy again
because i had based all of my self-worth in
how many looks you gave me but you barely
told me the time of day
but i’ll wait
and wait
and wait
(tell when you’re ready for me)
(tell me you love me)

i'm not impervious to the fact that
if the universe allows
i will grow old and die one day
i know that my skin will draw back from itself
the way picasso drew on canvas
and vines and creases will work their way
into my once fair and smooth skin
but when i go i want long flowing white hair
that brushes my back gentle as a feather
and lingers behind me like a second goodbye
hair that i can twirl into knots absentmindedly
an braid while bored in church
i want ink stains on my hand from the spilled
ink of writing poetry and stories
notebooks filled with the words that came
out of the sharp movements of my hands
and my hands
i want hands soft but worn
like my mother's favorite winter coat
i want hands that have held and let go
i want hands that know what the hell they're doing
i want toenails painted the most obnoxious
shade of red and mascara packed on like a
suitcase going on a trip to heaven
i want to be that old lady with the cats
because, let's face it, we all know i'm already
that old lady with the cats
they'll be named names from literature and plays
and i'll hope their names match their counterparts
but if they don't i'll love them anyways and
hold them with these hands that will have held
onto so many things before
when i go i want to have lived
and i want to have lived really really good

every year the rivers and lakes freeze over
and sometimes i think maybe my heart does too

the words bloomed from my mouth
and the petals fell as i spoke what i'd been
trying to say for the last six months
beautiful and soft
they fell to the floor in swirls
but left behind only dust

i sat in the shotgun seat of your eyes
and they drove me to the edge of glory
the radio was up and playing a silly love song
my feet were on the dash
i was reading a collection of poetry
there was a soft breeze coming in through
the open windows as we rode along
trees passed in blurs but you--
you stayed in brilliant focus
like waiting for a red light to turn green
you were the harmony and the melody
the center of this galaxy

i found myself wondering why you still
come around every so often
to talk
to laugh
to listen
and you should know that it drives me
just a little bit crazy
you see, your eyes, those **** eyes,
always lock with mine
but you don't look away (so i don't)
and then the electric current starts
thrumming and humming and buzzing
until it becomes a tangible things
that i taste on the tip of my tongue
when i'm around you i can't think straight
my words become  j u m b l e d  and
i want to kiss that spot where your
neck jaw head meets
but i can't, and i hurts like hell

i know that i'm worth more than my body
truly
but holy hell
did you see that girl and they way they looked at her
i compared myself to her without giving it a second thought
and suddenly i'm fishing my sweater out of
my bag to cover up my arms and torso
i feel like jupiter compared to mars
i feel like my body parts expanded and i'm gonna be
floating around the room any second now
my father always told me that beauty was all
in the face but now i find myself wondering
if that was just a pretty little lie