She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.

it seems as if
you are made up
of the stardust
that once formed the
very star i wished
upon for a girl
like you

the drum inside your
chest is my favorite
lullaby

i am not here
to love someone
like you.
i am here to love
y o u .

you are not purely
made up of
sunflowers and soft
vanilla candles.
nor are you purely
made up of
stardust and poetry.
you're made up of
thorns and bitter tastes.
you're made up of
thunderstorms and
fractured words
too.

you are not the thorns
that leave your lovers
bleeding.
you are not the
sunflowers growing
in your head.
you are everything in between.
you are everything all at once.

i'd rather lose you
knowing i loved
you wholeheartedly
than have loved you
with one foot out the
door