There's something especially painful about being in love with what you can't have,
And it's another entirely to see and not touch, when missing someone has never hurt so **** much,
To remember your lips but never feel them again,
To catch your glance but always refrain,
From admitting I'm in love with the very poison that put me down,
But if being with you meant always falling then I'd never want to touch the ground,
What we had was a moment, a couple thousand seconds at most,
But you made blood pump through my veins: you brought to life a ghost.

in the air
I never really knew how deeply she could tremble
was she flying ore falling?
Either way time made us strangers.
Her words are still carved into my flesh
even though she doesnt haunt me like she use to
I still  have a chain
But  this  time it´s sinking
into Sofias  sky
I  could never  really tell
if  she was  simply alone ore just sick
Maybe  an illness whom I bonded with
in ways a  real human could never
comfort , nor touch me
She was a teenage girls
best friend.

So this is basically a rant and things I can't really tell people.

To all the friends,
who I thought I needed-
I just realized that I don't.
Because I am done with worrying
about what to think
and what to say to you.  
Done with debating
what it is.
And done with **** people.

To all of my friends
who I think I still need-
I don't.
Restraining myself from telling you about my every day
Isn't easy
But now sending myself emails
has become too habitual
I found a substitute for you.                                                             ­                                                                 ­              

To both of my parents,
thank you.
I don't agree with anything you say
But up till now you were always right
(usually)
So I don't know who is wrong this time
Sorry for all the problems I have caused

To my little brother-
you did get meaner.
And I wish that you could be
one of the people who don't mock me
It's okay though
But know that I will never be
"fun" again.
sorry

To the girl who thinks this is for her:
It's not.
To the girl who thinks it isn't for her:
It is.
I'll still always be there for you
Because it is you that I do need

At night they gather on the roof
Frolicking around while I dream in bed
Watching closely, yet still aloof
I think they're only in my head.  

They always stay near in hand
And all my poetry they have read
Their presence is always grand
I think they're only in my head.

The six of them have hearts of gold
And the blood flowing is even red
Yet their type is still untold
I think they're only in my head.

At night they gather on the roof
I think they're only in my head.

I can't find words to fit your tortured soul,
But I suppose that's fitting.
You were the only one,
Who's ever left me speechless.

I'm not sure,
How I can hold so much anger,
And so much love for you
At once.

You're a drunk fool,
It was a drunk love.

If the angel of the girl I once was didn't
fly so far away from where I am, I would
stick Forever Stamps on a million notes,
hold them together with a broken pinky
swear and send them to her like a bundle
of weary promises. I would instruct her
to clutch them against her fluttering chest
for a moment or two, then scatter them like
breadcrumbs leading home.

I would send her the night you showed up
drunk and giggled your way into my bedroom,
where you collapsed on the chair in the corner
that was covered in the silhouettes of song-birds.

I would send her how it felt when you hugged me
onto you lap, my thighs squishing on the top
of yours. Our laughter melded with the Joni Mitchell
lullaby humming on the small side table.

I would send her how we looked, your nose brushing
mine and the silly smiles that made kissing impossible.
We couldn't have looked pretty, with your wide waist and
my blemished skin but I'm sure we looked lovely--in-love.

I would send her the taste of your tongue after you
whispered in my ear with hot, sweet breath, "I'm happy,
more than I have ever been before." I believed those
tickles of your thoughts, because I was too.

But most importantly, I would make sure to send her
a final note that included the creak of my bed as you
sat up and the sound of your soft footsteps padding
towards the for as you left my lying there.

why is my heart so full?
why are my affections so heavy?

sometimes i feel
like i have been cursed with a heart
that feels too much
too quickly
too soon

falling in love
is all i know how to do
falling apart
is a close second

(but i guess the latter
just normally happens
as soon as the former does)