I have fallen in love with the lilac trees
oh how i long to be the gentle wind
that blows slowly through their leaves

i could speak ceaselessly for a thousand years
and still not explain why
your magnificence brings me to tears

i looked upon your sunkissed face
and for a moment
the vicissitudes of the fates
seemed a little less vicious
the winds a little less harsh
and the world a little less cruel.

heaven is a real place,
and it is a few inches of skin
just below your nose.

i am a man of many words and metaphors
but none of them can accurately describe
the simple beauty of the fact
that you are mine
and i am yours.

i wish to give you the world two times over
and three more times just because.

i was so lost amongst the wilds
and yet you still found me.

the pair of hands i've never held
are the ones i am dying to hold.

no one ever warns you that love is so painful.
heartbreak? car crash?
i couldn't tell the difference.
did i fall in love, or off a cliff?
both seem equally pleasant.
looking back, i'm not sure if you were kissing me or cursing me.
                                                                                                               (i'm sure you meant me no harm)

your voice, your smell, your smile;
these are all things I will never forget,
locked in a gilded display case in my mind until I die.

l-o-v-e is a four letter word i only barely learned to pronounce before my tongue and heart were ripped from my chest and open mouth.
i now sit in silence.
i wish that i could speak again, so that i may curse the universe for this torment.

slowly, i forget what my heartbeat sounded like,
how it felt to love.

Souls like us
Are widely awake
At 3am- while everybody
Is in the midst
Of their slumber

It's in these times
Our mind and soul
Are mostly active
Struggling to find a way
Out of our own thoughts

While everyone holds
A glass of fancy liquor
We hold our hearts in our pens
Afraid it's gonna be like this forever

While everyone holds their pillow close
Or someone they love
We are up with words- almost overdose
Writing for someone we lost

I am a rough draft. I am the crossing out of words that are not good enough in red ink, question marks after highlighted theories by your English teacher.

You are eventually going to ask about the dark lines on my right wrist, and I will eventually tell you the truth. I'll tell you the very first time was when I was only seven years old. I sat on my bed and stabbed my hand with a pencil. I have a few scars from that and I hope you will eventually have the courage to take a black pen and connect them to create a constellation and help me make sense of all of it.

When I cry because I get overwhelmed with how much I love you, take it as a compliment. Yes, I cry often. Yes, I love too much. When this happens, unzip your skin and make room for me. Fit me into your chest, because I will try my hardest to fit in between the bones of your back and the spaces in between your ribs. You will see every ounce of my love for you in the ringlets of my hair, every vein you can see in my wrists and every bone that pops out of my back.

After our first real fight, I will call back a half hour later, asking you to stay the night. When you get to my room, you will hear the kettle steeping and the bath running. I will run into your arms, and yes, I will cry again. I will plant kisses on every part of your body I can see, and whisper apologies for being such a mess in between every kiss.

I will make you many mix tapes and write you lots of letters. I will kiss the corners of your smile whenever I see it. I will write you many poems and seal them in envelopes and mail them to you, even if I was going to see you the next day. I will want to cook with your mother and discuss renovation plans with your father. When you roll your eyes when I call them by their first names, I will laugh.

But please know, I am only a rough draft. You will get tired of my love, my poems and fitting your fingers in between the spaces of mine. You will carve your name into my bones and my skull, rearranging every one of my veins to spell your name and seal a picture of every moment we fell in love all over again on the inside of my eyelids. For every time I blink, you will be there. You will be everywhere, and I am not able to leave my mark on any boy who claims he loves me, so know that you will be free. I was only the rough draft.

If your body
Is a canvas
My lips
Would then be
A paintbrush
And with the colors
Of our love
Together-
We can create
A masterpiece
That even van gogh
Would be amazed

I read once that
people who can’t
sleep are either
in love or lonely.
And some nights
I can’t tell the
difference
between the two.
Feelings only
become real
after 2 am,
While everyone
sleeps and I
lie awake
trying to hush
the swirl
of churning
thoughts and
memories that
still linger.
when the only
solace is sleep,
I find my peace
in the daylight,
the drinks, and
the medications
that make the
memories stop
showing inside my
skull and help
the darkness
drift In with ease.