The smell of you
Lingers, even though
You are gone.
The softness of
Your voice,
Embedded in my ears,
The tenderness of your
Touch remains on my
Skin, even though you
Are gone.

It has been but minutes,
And already I miss
You with burning intensity.

Tears tug at the corners
Of my eyes, and as
I attempt to blink them
Away, I remember
The feel of your hand
On my cheek,
A light caress-
An enduring farewell
From each of your fingers.

I take my walk when the
Wind cuts into my
Side, slicing through
My clothes, and as I
Feel utterly exposed,
I remember your embrace,
A lingering closeness of you;
An enrapturing embrace
Filling me with warmth-
This I remember as
The cold wind threatens
To capture my soul.

Silence meets every corner
Of my house, and as I
Stave off misery,
I remember your voice
In my ear, a
Comforting whisper
Filled with as much
Longing as my own
Heart- an everlasting
Reassurance that
You care for me,
As I do so care for you.

As I remember,
I feel a strong bond
Between our distanced
Selves, and I know
A bond like ours
May never be broken,
Regardless of anything.

First, there was the sweetest boy,
who played the sweetest song.
He gave me all he had to give,
until all he had was gone.
I lapped up his love like a cat,
without the thankful purr.
And with nothing left to give me,
he left to play for her.

Next, there was the quiet boy,
with fangs beneath his lips.
He whispered all the things he felt,
and loved me with his hips.
But he could not keep his promises,
always wanting more.
The day he left it rained and rained.
I melted through the floor.

Then, there was the angry boy.
All he ever did was scream.
On quiet nights, when the wind is right,
I hear him in my dreams.
For him I would move mountains,
but I would probably do it wrong.
On minute, spitting in my face,
and the next minute he was gone.

Lastly, there was just a boy.
No words that can describe.
With a lack of substance to his mind,
but a fire in his eyes.
Though ever kind and caring,
my heart I could not give.
So, missing more than just my point,
he left our life to live.

Let me tell you about highschool
Let me tell you about the girls with hair higher then they can reach
The boys with the careless hair
The love intre-

No

Let me tell you about MY highschool
With the nerd shirts and phrases that most don’t understand
With the football games and the blue and white face paint
The girls talking to me with another pair of lips rather than the ones plastered on their face

No

Let me tell you about life
About the dew drops in the morning
The smile hidden in a stranger as he orders his double mocha triple shot dosage of love
Injected

No

Let me tell you about me
Let me tell you about my mom and her thin lips that orchestrate fat lies
Let me tell you about my dad who treats the bottle like the daughter he never wanted
Let me tell you about my school life and the way I get treated

No

Let me tell you a story
A story about ups and downs
Pills and coke and *****
With books and love interests
I cant fit my life into a poem

I can tell you my love life in a poem
My scars in a poem
My hate in a poem
My fears in a poem
I can’t tell you my life

I can tell you about my surroundings
How I always try to be strong
But you can only stick your head near ***** for so long
Before you start smelling what they're saying.

I can tell you about homophobia
About the men who flinch at the very word ******
Or the girls who are so uncomfortable with themselves they starve
I can tell you about the parents childless because of bullying

So tell me
What do you want to hear today?

I'll *******,
If you want.
Cause I want it
Just as bad as you do.
But I also want to hear the rustle of the sheets
When you turn over in the middle of the night.
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck.
I want the stubble on your chin to graze my cheek
As you kiss me gently on the forehead.
And when I whisper "goodnight," you don't have to reply.
Just nudge me with your knee
Or poke me with your elbow.

I am loud,
Demanding attention.
I know when I am being charming
Because I try.
I put on my impressing face
And do my impressing hair
And speak my impressing words.
I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories
And everything else about me
That you probably shouldn’t know.

I am not good at being quiet
Because that’s not who I am.
I am not the sweet girl
Who will leave you with a smile
And a touch
And a glance
Or a single word.
There is nothing of this fashion of romance
About me.

I am the girl who will point out your flaws,
And take you outside to see the stars,
And remind you how human you are,
And what a wonderful thing that is.

I am the girl who will talk about science,
And music and theology and history,
And point out constellations, laughing,
When you don’t know the big dipper’s name.

I am the girl who will make witty references,
To classic literature and science fiction,
And will tell you stories of how I once,
Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse.

I am the girl who will stand on a table,
And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway,
And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor,
Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point.

I am the girl who takes too many shots
And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver,
And knows all the right places to bite, and tease,
And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk.

I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind.
I am not a thing hard to capture.
You would not spend a perilous journey
Through a wild, perfumed jungle,
Searching for my slender garments
Hung beside a pool
As I wail to the breeze.

Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead
Making too much noise
Distracting from the trail ahead.
A bird whose plumage proves
What an interesting life it must be…
What a colorful life for me…
Perpetually strange
The lone comic relief.

I am many things.
But I am not quiet.
Of this I am sure.

I’m tugging your sleeve
I feel like a small child with their parent at the amusement park
And I’m saying to you, mentally,
“You’re just jumping at everything that comes at you!
Taking it under your arms and caressing it
Announcing it loud and clear!
Your plans are made”
But oh,
You let them go when something more shiny and new comes along
And you let go of all you said before and now you’ve scribbled out your future
And are writing a new
And what is this? A comical change? Are you doing this for the fun of it?
Because you’re bouncing like a bunny
And smiling along the way
And I can’t help but never take you seriously
Because with the dusty things you have now
There are shinier things to come
And you change your mind as often as I bite my nails