It took me weeks to months
To simply contemplate
My words to sentences
So I can express
How much you mean to me

It took you a minute
To give me a bright white rose
Just to tell me
How you feel
And how to never be
Seen again

I thought it was about to end
Just like a season that has passed by
Waiting for the perfect moment
Which I've lived countless times

I never hoped for a closing statement
Because I knew it was not existent
I hoped for it to just fade
Into a beautiful cascade

Then I saw you once again
Everything I've ever hoped for
Has gone and reset

I really wanted to forget
But I saw you
And remembered

There's no doubt,
That one day you'll read my words;
And see each of my fabricated worlds.
Everything I've been wanting to show
Say, feel, and hold
To these months, years and days;
Even the hours, minutes and seconds
That I've been by your side.

One day, you asked me for a favor;
If I could help you prepare
To be the happiest person,
In his world

You left me skipping through my worlds;
Re-reading your words.
Saying,
"I love you"

I'm not sad that you're with him
Nor am I dismal that he's with you
I'm devastated at the reality
You'll never be mine.
And I'll never be yours,

"you deserve someone beautiful.
let no one tell you otherwise."*
you think of her,
and you think
of dimly lit january midnights,
of poetry-filled evenings,
of renewed hope each morning,
of tireless afternoons waiting;
of crossed-finger whispers,
of untouchable constellations,
of iron-hearted wolf princesses,
of kindergarten hesitation;
of seconds between held breaths,
of clandestine glances,
of daylight cast upon her hair
of radiance.
you think of her,
and she is the sun.

or if you should think of me,
you would think
of inebriated exchanges,
of secrets drowned in caffeine,
of brushed away tears,
of faces within screens;
of image noise and film grain,
of ink-stained hands,
of nebulous confessions,
of an esoteric slow dance;
of adventitious white lies,
of flickering innocence,
of fire and brimstone,
of convenience.
you think of me,
and i am the ocean.

i am not saying
i am not deserving of you,
only that i am not the sun.
i am the ocean,
and you will only fall into me
after she has left your wings coming undone.

men do not attempt flight
in hopes of their descent.
men do not craft wings
seeking to fly into the convenient.
men like you have been wise enough
not to sink into girls like me.
girls like her have been kind enough
to keep themselves out of your reach.

she is the sun,
and you have flown too close.
your body is a kite lost to the wind,
just like what your father feared most.
i am the ocean,
and the possibility of you feels so close.
i count the seconds until you make contact
like a ticking alligator in the shadows.
i want to believe that it is bad
to want this so badly, believe me
i wish that when you broke my surface
it did not satiate me so quickly.
because for a moment
you may find me beautiful,
how my cool waves soothe your burns
and you feel featherlight in this lull.
but no one stays in the ocean for too long—
others' fingers prune away
others leave out of boredom
and though others return none actually remain.
perhaps you could be different,
perhaps you would never leave me for the shore.
and should you decide to stay,
there would be nothing i'd want more.

but should you start gasping for air,
should you tire of the taste of saltwater and the sight of blue,
should your arms start reaching out again towards her,
i will not take it against you.
you deserve someone beautiful.
to deprive you of this would be a great transgression.
after all she is the sun,
and i am only the ocean.