I named my flowers
After you.
After all, there's strong resemblance -
Both of you are made of plastic,
Colorful and fake.

I named my onions
After you.
After all, there's strong resemblance -
Both of you had made me weep,
Blinded by the burns.

I named my scissors
After you.
After all, there's strong resemblance -
Both of you have torn apart
Endless hearts of paper and people.

I named my coffee
After you.
After all, there's strong resemblance -
Both of you held my consciousness
Captive in your hands.

I named my one-night
After you,
After all, there's strong resemblance -
Both of you took what you wanted
Then took off and never looked back.

I named my poems
After you.
After all, there's strong resemblance -
The amount of pain that you both made me go through,
Is just how far
I've grown.

Dear Love,
People search for you.
They look in the faces on the street trying to find you.
People lose you.
You fade away from them, leaving them only with grief.
What they don't understand is that you are everywhere.
You are in every fibre of the universe.
People just don't think to look.
They think that you are just an emotion to be felt.
Just the pounding of a heart,
the quickening of breath,
the eruption of butterflies in a stomach.
You are all of those things, but so much more.
You are the sun's rays on the wet earth.
You are the branches of a tree, stretching outward,
outward.
You are the whisper of a child late at night when awoken by nightmares and in need of their mother's comforting arms.
You are the hand of a painter.
You are the mind of a genius.
You are passion, though not always held passionately.
You are devotion, though not always devoted to.
You are reverence, though not always revered.

Sincerest regards,
Humanity

I lose myself when I walk away from you.

I know.
I'm not supposed to.

I'm meant to be strong and sure.
I'm meant to be brave.
I'm meant to be independent.

And I am.

It's just so much easier with you there.
Right beside me.
Holding my hand.
Lending me strength when I have nothing left to give.

I am independent.
I swear.

Just sometimes I don't want to be.

my soul
remembered you
and that isn't
easy to forget.

i bet even after all this time
that if my chest were to
ache with emptiness enough
like it used to i could go to your house
and find the outline of our bodies
on your dark blue bed sheets
i have spent the last year
both trying to run from you
and find you at the same time
but i left everything i knew
about falling in love
on that mattress and
it's still settling there
like dust and
all i can do is write about you
until it comes back to me,
or by some kind of miracle,
you decide to.

most of us are lonely