Her hands shaking like the bedpost,
Springs are sprung in a similar way to how I am for her,
Bending over effortlessly to feel the sway of her remarks.
If only her remarks were as sweet as her accent,
(If only she had an accent.)
Brave wake-up calls furthering our existence.
Memories lost at the bottom of half empty bottles & at the top of the ping-pong ball's curve.
The sky has been dark for a few hours & the back seat is really the only place we have ever found coherence at.
Tears. Lots of tears.
"Forget about them, take a little chance with me."
The friction,
the faulty red cups,
the unforgettable music,
the fair use of things that are older than our grandparents,
the flavor of her lips, (which makes me think of home, which makes me remember what shattered glass looks like on a kitchen floor & helps me remember what hands that would grab my arm too hard felt like) nostalgia in a pair of lips,
the fruit we were all too eager to try,
the fall of our bodies & the rise of our voices,
the few times we actually would like to remember,
the famous upside-down sip,
& the four words that I could never say in her presence again:
•Light
•Deer
•Exhibit
•Hello
"Promise me you won't forget me."
Misunderstanding her voice never helped me until now.
We're very tired.
We're very sleepy.
But yet our lips aren't.
They seem to forget their purpose once they have a taste of sin.
"Please don't tell anyone I did that."
We're too young for this & I think that's why we do it.
Purposely persuading your every step.
"Don't tell her I said that"
Home is now haze & books are now blur.
More tears.
"I'm not ashamed of you, I just like keeping everything a secret."
We're too old for mistakes & I think that's why we choose to make them.
Calm nerves make her nervous & so do unsteady pens.
"Please don't be mad at me."
We're too smart to be stuck on the same chapter & I think that's why we close the book instead of continuing to read on.

We're all just accidentally sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

January- Her toes were chilly just like the trees in her front yard. She had never known what happiness was & she still hadn't found the answers (especially not in me), yet the love for the similarities of december compared to this beautful month was similar into the way that she loved food but hated to eat; she loved the way her glasses looked on her, & how perfect the dimples on her face felt in the sunlight, & every song that I ever wrote for her, & the way I make long lists about all the ways she was beautiful to me.
She loved all of these things, but never me.

February- the clouds always looked over her like a big brother & always told me when she was in need of one of my helpful conversations consisting of me expressing all the reasons why she is so important to this world & that nobody would be who they are today if it wasn't for her birth & her substantial impact on people's outlook on life. She hated the way everyone would fall for her like leaves in september & she would always feel bad for b(rake)ing leaves & hearts that weren't hers to b(rake) in the first place. She was most magnificent when she was upset, the passion, the sadness, the fear, it was all just beauty in its purest form.

March- This was her favorite month, because it was so spontaneous and unexpected just like her;
one day it's raining
& the next day a cloudless day where we're sunbathing in my living room,
& even the next day is a harsh winter with a spice of sun added to the whole recipe.
One day she was dressed up & happy,
the next day she could be dressed down & apathetic towards life (& especially me),
& even the next day she did her make-up but not her hair & she actually manages to put socks on but they aren't matching (& she hates not matching, maybe that's why I never match my socks anymore) & her mood has a hint of attitude with a spice of sarcasm, & I love every single second of it. Becasue life is like the month of march, you never know whether she's going to love you or not.

April- This isn't a good month for her, she's behind in all of her classes because of her job & life at home & she's scared of everything. It's sunny & windy half of the time, & rainy the rest of the time. She hates the rain because it ruins her hair & reminds her of why her mom isn't in her life anymore & the fact that she'll never forgive her dad for that. On the extra rainy days she didn't go to school & on the sunniest days she sat inside catching up on all of her missing school work. To her, april was like the world we live in, absolutely horrific.

May- the color was riveting; the skies were as glossy as her eyes after a short nap, & she had just finished reading her new favorite book. Love was short tempered this time of year, but at this point i'm used to it. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time though, because lasting love never lasts & everyone knows that. She has just told me that she is slowly falling for me, & this is unusual to me because i'm usually the leaf that is falling to my inescapable death, not the other way around. But the way the goosebumps on her arm looked & the way her lip quivered was so unbelievably beautiful as she was telling me that she's loved my childish humor & stupid stories for quite some time now, but has finally decided to let herself love me instead of drenching her affection for me in sarcasm & rudeness. I am finally loved & i'm not sure if I can stand up without thinking about her kissing me & how am I supposed to go to sleep when I could be holding her instead. Lovely May couldn't have come at a better time.

June- Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Not because of the sun either, but because her body against mine was a sauna & the way we looked at eachother put a shame to the way the sun looks at the moon. We were explorers of the human body & our first trial had taken place with eachother. We have never been outside of our city so we decided that we would travel the world together, through each other's stories, body movements & wandering souls. I had seen pictures before of the great ranges & valleys that are so beautiful, it's a shame that all they'll ever be are just valleys; but nobody prepared me for her smile,
& the way she laughs when I pick her up & spin her around in public places,
& that strapless dress that she loves to wear,
& especially the way she tells me that i'm perfect & actually means it.
Nobody prepared me to actually want to keep on living.

July- the heat was at an all-time high whether it had been between our agruments, or the sun cooking down on us like eggs on a sidewalk. Maybe the temperature had something to do with her mood swings or maybe it was just her realizing that I wasn't as perfect as she thought I was. I can't tell you I didn't expect this though, no one in my life had ever stayed longer than a few years, whether it was because of my overly direct opinions, or my waves of jealousy, or my (meaningless) indirect insults; whatever the case was I didn't expect much from anyone nowadays, & the strangely beautiful thing about it was, neither did she.

August- I can't really say very much about what happened this month except her hair blowing in the wind is more heartwarming than any cup of hot cocoa & the way she broke my heart with just her eyes will forever haunt my cloudless dreams.

September- Just like the month of september, she finally settled into a pair of warm, comforting arms; but those arms were definitely not attached to my body & the month of september definitely wasn't sad just to accompany my mood, it was sad at the fact that the world is slowly falling in love february & losing interest in all summer related festivities; this is how I felt, she was slowly falling in love with the rainforest & I am just a single tree.

October- She would still call me every now & then, but only when her & her new boy toy were having relationship problems or when she had a bit too much to drink.
"I made a mistake." "I love you." "I want you back." "I miss you so much."; the sentences evacuated her mouth like water falling from a cliff & could have easily exterminated every cell in my body had I not hung up before I could hear the end of it.
I loved her & I wanted her more than I wanted to see the sky each morning, but I knew she didn't mean anything that she was saying in those insignificant, yet crucial moments; I knew she didn't love me, she loved the idea of never having to be alone.
I was pretty sure october was coming to an end soon, but honestly, I didn't even keep track of the days anymore, I didn't keep track of anything anymore.

November- winter is just around the corner & I haven't  heard from her in a week of two.
I think she's happy now.
I hope she's happy now.
Even if i'm not, I hope she is.

December- I realized that no matter how cold the weather gets, her heart will always be much more colder, sinking to temperatures a small child would have nightmares about.
I finally have come to terms with the fact that she isn't coming back;
just like the leaves,
just like the sun,
just like time,
she's gone.

The clock in your room is stuck on 6:46 p.m. & I think that's all the time I need to fall in love with you.

It didn't take much time for me to realize that your laugh was sweeter than every bakery in northern california , & that your teeth are whiter than my favorite sweater, & the dresses you wear could rehabilitate a ******* addict in the matter of minutes, & your favorite song is the same song that we were listening to when we decided that we're better off together than apart, & that walk that you have when you're wearing your favorite outfit could cure my severe illness for good.
It didn't take much time for me to realize that 2+2 could only add up to equal you;
that everything in the long run always added up to equal you.

Time is a funny thing when all of it is spent with you,
with your humor,
your simple sarcasm,
your addictive tickles,
your favoring voice,
your stupidly stimulating conversations,
your cold yet inviting arms,
your masterpiece of a body,
your god-like heart,
& most importantly your vivacious patience with me.

Life is all about time, trial and error, & taking chances;
& frankly
you were the best chance I ever took,
the best broken clock I could have ever spent all of my time with,
& the best error I never made.

All it took was one gentle swift against the wind & I would be plummeting to a world where I would never get to swiftly take my feet off the ground & call it a night ever again.
It was scary thinking about the idea that life is just a code word for death & almost everything I have ever physically or emotionally touched has more significance than my touch ever will.
Life reminds me of all the ingredients a smile is made of & why it takes so long to perfect it.
My existential past, present, & future are all calling out for me now, but my vulnerable mind is nowhere to be found.
I have never trembled so drastically before.
I want to continue my stay to further my research on all of the reasons why humans have never picked me first in gym class, or why love has never reached out to give me a helping hand, or why my name was always at the beginning of the sentence that always ended with smiles turning into bruises & bruises turning into unwelcome memories.
Life is a joke, yet it has the only punch line that has ever terrified me.
The feeling of drowning has always made me think of what the true defintion of home really is.
I'm so scared, but these tears won't be around much longer & that's really the only happy thought i've had in the past few years.
A young boy once asked me what the meaning of life was, & my answer has haunted me ever since there was life before death & the only look I gave him was a look that even lightning would turn its back to; the only look in my life that has ever made someone other than myself fear the unknown; this is my apology to that young, innocent boy's eyes; this is my apology.

Writing this has made me realize 5 things:
1.) You can't run from air, no matter how bad you want to stop breathing.
2.) There is no such thing as being "fully gone", even after you think that you have found your escape route out.
3.) Writing your feelings down onto pieces of paper doesn't necessarily mean that people will all of a sudden come running to your rescue, apologizing for being themselves, & beg for your forgiveness out of pure love & regret.
4.) Not everyone can be the hero; but you must soon realize that just because you are not the hero doesn't mean that you are the villain.
5.) I'm not afraid anymore.

Has the nighttime ruined you yet?
Has your blood went bad from the lack of ice that their heart used to provide for you?
Have you come to realize "what could have been"?
Have you found what you've been chasing?
Do you think you ever will?
Do you think you actually want to?
Have you gotten everything off of your chest yet?
Do you think you've been holding back out of your own fear of failure?
Have you died during their stories & suffocated in their moments of clarity yet?
Has the daytime ruined you yet?
How many times have you told them that you are in love with them?
How many times have you wanted to tell them?
How many times have you wished you were still in love with them?
How many times have you wished that they were still in love with you?
How many times has the image of them arrived in your mind while reading this?
(Why didn't you write this?)
Where were you the first time you realized that you were meant to sink only into their ocean of a bloodstream?
Has life ruined you yet?
How many times have you wished they would have stayed?
How many times have you cried over someone that has only known what dry eyes feel like?
Are you scared?
Are you okay with knowing that you are not okay?
Would you do it all over again?
Could you do it all over again?
Has love ruined you yet?

I never saw her again,
but the thing was that I didn't need to;
She left me with enough memories & hope that could paralyze the world if needed.

For the rest of my life I will always remember the song I would sing in my head whenever she made me the happiest.

Her words were so clear & so meaningful,
it was like taking a speech class all over again;
I loved speech,
I loved her.

For the rest of my life I will always remember what it felt like to have my inner thoughts massaged by such clean & innocent hands (words).

She was the teacher that taught for the passion of it, & the thrill of changing the lives & minds of kids for years to come.
She taught me how to laugh & cry,
even how to love;
No one had ever loved me more, no one could have ever loved me more, I simply wouldn't let them.

For the rest of my life I will always remember waking up knowing that the love of my life was laying in bed next to me, & it would be that way forever.

She was my favorite subject & ironically I was her's as well,
She confused me constantly with her wit & she loved the look in my eye when I was totally lost (& a little dumbfounded) by her words;
I was totally lost in her,
so lost that I never quite found my way back.

*For the rest of my life I will always remember the feeling of having to say goodbye, but never before having been taught how to.

She always loved her phone more than my eyes, & the cashier's flirtatious remarks made her feel more loved than my poems ever could.
"It's not enough to simply be loved by someone these days" I would always try to spit out to her, but involuntarily never having the courage to.
I never thought someone could lose interest so quickly for someone that they loved, but nowadays we're only taught that looks are the only important thing to worry about & if someone actually has depth to them, you'll just end up drowning.
I'm sorry I never taught you how to swim.
I'm sorry I peer pressured you into jumping in too soon.
Once the fatigue of drowning fades away, all you are left with is the uncontrollable urge to stay dry.
Never again did she look me in the eyes.
Not once did she ever wonder why I loved her so badly; maybe she thought it was because of her good looks.
Her fingers always cringed at the thought of me & for that I have never come up from the depth of her ocean, that I have so forcefully made myself forget how to swim in.

I can't lay in my own bed without thinking about the fact that you've died there multiple times;
Your heart lays softly there next to me but you are nowhere to be found;
But that's okay,
Because love isn't an excuse,
&
it definitely isn't a reason to keep someone alive longer than what they're asking for.

Bottom line, we're both dead now (to each other), & I don't see any shining light, or higher power guiding me through any golden gates;
I see memories of all of the times we said goodbye but were still walking towards each other,
I see memories of all the times we got lost in the late night drives & subconsciously memorized the bumps of the roads,
I see memories of all the times you swore to me that you loved me (but everything was a lie),
I see memories of us dying together but it wasn't as beautiful as I thought it would be, instead it was painful, regretful, & so sudden it caught me off guard at the worst of times.

Death has come for us both,
but i'm still sitting here writing this about you,
& you're still somewhere else moving on from me.

First Base: Innocent words turn into gentle hands moving slowly yet rapidly from the stick shift to her thighs, wondering if leaning in would be moving too quickly or just the fact that maybe she wasn't ready to be moving at all.

Second Base: They're in his room now, both of which don't even know how they ended up there.
It's quiet though,
she liked quiet,
it reminded her of her childhood.
She observes the room like a rotation fan set to low,
slowly,
yet patently.
She notices all the pens & papers scattered all over his desk. His laptop was accidentally left open. It seems to be some sort of unfinished piece she finally manages to realize; she gets up from the squeaky bed & attacks it with grace, it reads:
"             *Feathers
      Her skin looked raw,
But the kind of raw
       You could still devour &
Not get sick from.
       I loved her, yet I didn't
Even know what
       Her favorite book was,
Or if she liked
        Sushi as much as I did.
I don't know if
        I will ever be the same
Again after laying
        My eyes on her.
I couldn't imagine
        Laying my hands
On her thighs or
        Kissing her while she
Was smiling.
         I wish I could tell
Her that..."
He slams the macbook shut at an attempt to stray as far away as possible from any further embarrassment.
She was frozen.
As was he.
He knew deep down inside of him he wanted her to read that, because he was never good at expressing his feelings face to face & maybe that's okay; but somewhere else trapped inside of him said that just because she's in your room alone with you does not mean in any way that she will ever remotely feel the same way towards you.
But a wise man once told him that if you're alive & well, & you're not doing everything that terrifies you, then what would be the point of living; & he now lives his life off of that minute & a half conversation with that homeless man outside of the starbucks that is right down the street from his house.
He went for it, he took flight of his life & his actions & went in for the thing he wanted most; *her.
The roughness in their innocent kisses would have been Rated R from the way you could taste the passion & it had the potential to make every bone in your body evaporate & leave you with nothing but your memories of what it used to be like to be able to taste.

Third Base: Clothes turned from magnets to grasshoppers in the matter of seconds. Everything was a fast paced blur. Skin was being ripped open, yet no blood was being ejected. No amount of candles could cover up the scent of sweat that was polluting the room. Songs are made from the sounds that were being created in this studio. The only thing keeping them apart was their own skin, & even that could barely do the job.

Fourth Base: They layed there, in awe; not thinking about the homework they hadn't finished, or that his parents probably heard the entire thing, or at the fact that the world had never moved so quickly in the same moments that time was in the midst of a game of freeze tag. No more worries about the future. Only love for what was going on in this moment. The way she curled up to his body reminded him that love can only come from the light. Her dark lipstick that was stamped all over his body reminded him that only beautiful things can come out of the dark.

Everyone only thinks about themselves,
but I only think about you;
I think about your face under a hot shower,
I think about what that hot water could do to my lips after kissing every inch of your body;
I constantly think about every inch of your body.

You breathe just like every other human; your heart beats in the exact same way as everyone else's does, but for some reason no other human, nor creature, can capture my attention & consume all of my thoughts (whether i'm conscious or not), like you can.

No one can forget my birthday yet still look so beautiful in that dress that you bought specifically to wear for me; no one can simply buy a dress like you can, & I know that sounds silly but the way you hand that cash over the counter & swipe your debit card makes my heart melt & my molecules rattle; my whole internal self is just one giant tambourine when you're near, & the music that my cells & veins produce will be played lightly in the background everytime you kiss my cheek & grab my hand while i'm driving.

As long as you continue to wear that dress for me & take the hottest of showers no matter what society tells you, then I will forever keep running after you no matter how fast you go & will always remember what it felt like to see you across the lunchroom;
casually falling in love with the thought of you,
with the thought of one day writing something for you that i'd actually be proud of,
with the thought of seeing your whole vulnerable self laying underneath my covers & knowing that I made the right decision for the first time in my life,
with the thought of kissing every inch of your body,
with the thought of losing my voice while you're the only one speaking;
with the thought of screaming out the only words that i've ever known to be true, "I Love You."

Step 1: Kiss her, hard.
Step 2: Let her swim through your body and feel her fingernails accidentally chip a piece of your heart off.
Step 3: Do anything and everything that absolutely terrifies you, then do these things again, with her this time.
Step 4: Climb a mountain, then write her a letter once you reach the top; spill your guts out onto that piece of paper and watch as the snowflakes turn into words and -27 degrees turns into excruciating emotions.
Step 5: Realize that death is just another form of telling her that she's beautiful & listening to her sing in the car & watching her graduate from the school we call life & letting her run her sandy toes through your leg hair.
Step 6: Jump off of a cliff made of her memories, then sink to the bottom of that ocean which is filled with contaminated smiles and laughs that you haven't seen or felt in ages.
Step 7: Congratulate her on her new job and marriage.
Step 8: Give her newborn son a big hug, for the both of you; knowing in the back of your mind, that should of been your little boy to give kisses to on all the boo-boos and scratches he gets.
Step 9: Accidentally see her across the park, jogging (so beautifully if I might add), and walk in the opposite direction.
Step 10: Keep on living, without her.

I appreciate you for kissing me when no one else would & holding my hand no matter how cold it was;
& for always remembering that i'm more delicate than your lips & this kind of love can only happen once;
& the fact that I always loved you more, but you somehow always showed me more love;
& no matter how angry I made you, you always forgave me because you knew that the ocean would sink itself if it could;
& for always crawling past the bad times, because you knew how beautiful the good times were; because you knew how beautiful we were.

If you ever read this I want you to know:
The one thing I loved more than your smile was the way you smiled at me;
& the reason I couldn't love you any harder was because I put all of my love into writing about you, not actually giving that love to you;
& I forgive you for giving up on me, I would have given up on a fully lit moon also;  i'm sorry I couldn't illuminate the night sky every night for you;
& all of the reasons I couldn't kiss you as hard as I wanted to were all the same reasons why I want to die with you in my arms;
& the way you used to look at me felt like skydiving with no parachute on, or being the last one standing in a game of dodgeball, or sinking to the bottom of a bathtub that's filled with your love & affection, or running a marathon while running on no hours of sleep, or seeing the moon for the first time, or realizing that the love we had is more meaningful than any high paying dead-end job, or traveling the world, or feeling something for somebody they said was an impossible feeling.

If you ever read this I want you to know, thank you, for everything.

July 8th - Where am I? What is this place? Why do I remember everything & nothing all at the exact same time?

July 14th - This is a place where the dying go to; I don't understand.

July 24th - I feel this sort of pain, but it's nothing I can't handle.

August 1st - I miss my pillow the most.

August 17th - I don't know how I ended up in here. I don't know how I ended up like this.

August 20th - I was created to please, yet lived to only disappoint.

August 21st - I'm so cold. They don't have blankets in this room. Just walls.

August 22nd - Why hasn't anyone came to visit me? Why doesn't anyone care?

August 24th - I can't breathe. These walls turned into a face mask & I can feel myself slowly disintegrating.

August 28th - A cookie may be able to crumble, but I could crumble oh so much faster; & crumble I shall.

September 1st - A window appeared. But it's always raining outside of it.

September 4th - I forgot how to speak. The rain is much louder than my voice, & i'm starting to realize that's how it's always been.

September 5th - I don't remember the feeling of dry eyes. I can't tell if the moistness is actually tears or if i've just been standing by this window a little too long.

September 15th - I like to pretend that this feeling is normal.

September 16th - Everyone won't stop asking me questions about when i'm going to get released & seem to never stop wondering what's "actually wrong with me".

September 17th - Maybe I can just act like everyone else are the ones with the problems.

September 21st - I need to be alone, yet I haven't even seen anyone in what seems to be months.

September 28th - I don't know how long i've been in here, but i'm starting to feel at home.

October 2nd - I finally met my doctor. He seems like a nice man. Hopefully he can take this feeling away, whatever it is.

October 3rd - I haven't opened my eyes all day; i'm too scared to see that you're still not there.

October 5th - The doctor keeps telling me that there are no visible sign of anything being wrong, he says i'm free to go.

October 5th - I don't want to go.

You never see a tree actually grow but you know that it constantly is growing;
You never see your tire blow out when you're on the highway hitting 90 but you know when it does;
You never see the world actually spinning but you know that you are never standing still;
You never see her falling in love with you but you know that she constantly is;
You never see yourself dying every time she looks into your eyes but you know that you are wearing out faster & faster each & every time your eyes make contact with each other.

I never saw you actually leave but I know you had left me months before I ever noticed you were gone.

& on that note, I would just like to say one thing:

Just because you never saw me trying to make you fall in love with me doesn't mean I never tried,
& just because the world seems more exciting & tempting than my arms, doesn't mean they deserve you more than I do,
& just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean we're still not in love with each other,
& just because you never think about me anymore doesn't mean that i'm out of your life for good,
& just because your eyes don't cry my name out anymore & your body doesn't crave my touch, doesn't mean that this world is going to stop spinning just for me & that the plants are going to cry after seeing my tears fall like meteorites to the dirt floor.

& the last thing I will ever really tell you before you never speak to me again is:

I'm sorry I tried so hard,
for you deserve someone that would not just try, but do.
I'm sorry I loved you so hard,
for you deserve someone that would take a bullet for you & not just be the one with the gun.
I'm sorry I made you my world,
for you deserve someone that could show you off to the world, not just make you into one.
I'm sorry I never tried harder,
for you deserve someone that would go to the end of the universe just to get you the last glass of water you will ever take a sip from.
I'm sorry I argued so much,
for you deserve a gentlemen that would show you the ropes of conversation, not light fire to every word you say.
I'm sorry I considered you my heaven,
for you deserve someone that not only worships you, but dies every time you speak & melts to muck right as your toes dip into the pool.

Just because life has gotten dull & people are now just metaphors for cloudy days, doesn't mean that this rain is constantly going to be falling on my umbrella & making me think of all the times your fingers pushed my hair out of my face during a thunderstorm;
& just because I wrote this for you, doesn't mean you will ever read it.

The ocean caught fire the first time I laid eyes on you,
the world was perfect & wars didn't exist for that split second,
also people weren't superficial but instead loving & appreciative for what had been right in front of their eyes for so long.

I'm sorry it took me so long to notice you before,
I had been so caught up in my own little chaotic world that I had never before noticed that the ocean had caught fire long before I was ever born, long before I knew how repulsive the taste of saltwater in my mouth was, long before the curtains could draw themselves,
& even before songs used to be written because of pure joy & not the idealistic lifestyle of endless fame & mountains of money.

I'm only 18 years old but I swear to you my dear, i've loved you for centuries.

Ever since the big bang theory, the universe has known what pure love has looked like because you have always existed,
in the dark matter,
in the dying stars,
in the evolving cities inside the galaxies that won't even exist for another 10 billion years,
you were always there, being loved; unconditionally, unimaginably, substantially, overconfidently, loved.

& whether I fade off into a heaven-like nirvana, or reincarnate into all of the tears running down your face, or just rot in the ground for all of eternity;
always know that every star in the galaxy will always love you if I can't, & the sun will burn out to the thought of you, & every burden that I ever put on your shoulders (including myself) will always remember (& appreciate) you for breathing all the air inside of a gasp-less room & will always love you for that;
even in 10 billion years after the earth is dried out & the sun is on its death bed, the universe will still love you,
for everything,
every kiss you gave me,
every time you let me lay in your arms even though you hated me at the moment;
every "cheer up champ, you'll get over me sooner or later" line you said to me,
every single piece of advice you had given me for ways to love you better, ways to love you harder, ways to give myself to you without seeming vulnerable, & ways to kiss you without actually being in the same room as you.

The universe will always love you, & the same goes for me, I will always love you as well, even when a meteor destroys the tree house that we built together, or a heat wave so powerful wipes out the human species, or you decide one day that the way I look at you in the shower isn't as meaningful as it was 6 months ago; no matter the catasrophe, this aquarius constellation will always remember how happy you made it, & will always love you for that.

She danced circles around me,
with that keen smile that
she only
seemed to have
when we were
saying
goodbye.
I was once told to only write
whenever
I was feeling inspired,
& ever since her
presence has faded
& there are no more
clichés left in this world to
write about,
i've found myself
running;
whether it's from
the road
or
the sun
or
the memories;
I just can't bring myself
to make the
tires stop rolling
& my feet stop
aching.
I can feel the fear
sweating out
of my
pores
& the regret
screaming for me
to stop
screaming
so loudly.
It took me weeks to figure
out exactly
why I couldn't feel
my arms every morning
while waking up
& I think it's because
they never truly
let go of
her body.
If my arms can't
have their
sanity
back,
then I would at least
appreciate mine
again.
It's hard to
write a poem when
you forgot
all of your pens
back at home.
It's hard
to
call anything a
home anymore
without being reminded
that mine had
two
legs
&
a
heartbeat
that were always
one step,
one beat,
one heartbreak,
ahead of me.
& for everyone
that has
said "you can't make homes
out of human beings" has
obviously
never found the
kind of
comforting
warmth that
only a fireplace
& her smile can
create; except
fire could
never put me
in the hospital as
quickly
& her
glance
was enough
to get fire trucks
racing to
the scene.
I realize why
the term
"love" is used
so lightly nowadays;
it's because no
one that has
truly experienced it
has ever lived
to
tell the tale.

Each day gets brighter, while my eyelids slowly glide to the ground.
Summer is here but all I see are gray skies & snowy roads.
The world is calling my name but you can't hear the screams from where my heart is located.
I gasp for air every couple of seconds, but god's disguised hands keep pushing me back underwater.
The further I run away, the closer I get.
All of the lights go out right as I arrive to the last chapter.
I am burning down as my house just stands there & watches.
The one thing that would actually pour water on me to put the fire out was the one thing that had no access to it.
I get told "congratulations" & all I hear is "stop smiling".
Love turns to dust & death turns to sunflowers
(Sunflowers were her favorite).
Holidays do not exist anymore.
Days do not exist anymore.
Time stands still, as my thoughts run in place.
Forbidden memories have come outside to play.
Only pens that have runout of ink can truly express my thoughts.
Life as we all know it is pulling back the curtains, & taking its final bow.

ps - the sun only seems to shine on the days that I have no willpower to bring my eyes to the surface; & the scent of her palms was the only thing worth noticing

my favorite poem was always her silence,
even after god stopped screaming & the cries from the tires screeching only occupied the ears of the young & the dead,
lovely to know that no matter what happens in this life, life will never give back,
as always i'm feeling stuck inbetween her mind & her heart, but never her thighs (& that was okay),
neither of us had loved each other to our full potential,
i was terrified, & for some oddly beautiful reason nothing could even make her flinch,
eventually the ocean will go bad, just like our hearts.

life doesn't owe you anything, it has no debt to you or your cold soul,
you have to believe my words when I tell you that I only feel sadness everytime I realize that her name has now just become an acronym & everything she once said to me was now drowning somewhere, in some ocean, screaming out someone else's name to help save her,
no, don't believe me,
no, don't believe anything I ever say (she never did).

reducing my bank account to the day of the month that she strangled my heart with her two bare hands, that way everytime I look at my bank funds I can feel the same type of struggle that my heart felt that very night,
evolution did her good, just like all the other boys between her thighs nowadays,
you only live once is the biggest lie to ever enter my ear drums; i've looked into her eyes & have spoken with demons that died thousands of years ago that still reside inside my sweet angel,
now my phone is crying for her call & the same goes for me,
only time can mend a deceased heart,
live alone & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest, yet live for someone else & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest,
doubtfully kiss my lips & you will finally, fully understand that she didn't take only my heart with her that night,
sporadically trying to find out if I could at least have my hands back; they might be a little burnt from all of the times I reached for her heart, but I miss the sting when trying to close my fists & the burn of her lips on them as she puckered up to the open wounds that she didn't even know she had created.

I tried to tell you how it always never ends,
I tried to tell you what it always feels like;
Never push you, never pull you,
Never bend;
Cleaning up my act, yet never feeling spotless,
Draining my thoughts yet still so anxious,
Pulling all of my hair out yet still feel so beautiful,
Calming my nerves yet still jumping into the deep end;
The one thing i've been good at all my life was knowing for a fact that you were meant for me, but I will always and forever be a random bystander as you pass the local coffee shop at 7:36 a.m. on your way to work; but i'm okay with that, because at least I know that i'm breathing the same air as you, & maybe we even swim in the same ocean water every now & then, & hopefully step on the same cement patterns twice in a lifetime.
I would be an idiot to not live the rest of my life with you.
I would be an idiot to let you go so effortlessly.
I would be an idiot to watch you hold someone else's hand on your way out of your apartment, and not say or do anything about it.
I would be an idiot to write this knowingly that you will, for a fact, see it.
But i'm not an idiot, i'm a man with no more hair, and anxious thoughts, and nerves that act up way too often.

When you're mad at me I drive slower than I normally would even though we're not saying a word to each other; just to be there with you, for as long as possible, to feel that emotional consciousness between us; even to feel that tense love that we have had for quite a while now.

I write you love letters & tape them to the bottom of your bed once a month, that way, however long it takes for you to find them, when you finally do, your eyes will have never witnessed a garden of sunflowers so breathtaking before; a garden of my emotions; a garden of our story.

I buy you things that I won't ever give to you because I know you would love them, but I also know how you hate when I spend money on you.

I tell everyone I meet that I have a diamond waiting for me back home. What they don't know is that you're actually a gold mine. A pure, beautifully sanctioned, gold mine.

I stare at you for hours on end while you sleep so elegantly next to me, because every rose should always be noticed, & every star in the galaxy needs to be appreciated.

I plan out cute dates for us in excruciating details, & only plan to take you on each of them once a year, because I know we can make it that long, I know it.

I secretly record your voice every now & then, & play it on loop so I can fall asleep to the most delicately astounding sound this world has ever come across. Your voice is my clarity. Your voice reminds me of all the reasons why i'm not religious.

I sometimes sing in the shower, but only the last song that played before you got out of the car. Every song reminds me of your voice & everything always brings my mind back to the thought of you. My mind is like a wandering dog,  he may be able to venture out for some time, but sooner or later he always comes back to the thing he knows best.

I write songs for you daily but am afraid that if I show them to you & you know my fully untouched feelings about you then all you would see me as is what I really am, weak.

I have a journal that is filled with ways to tell you that I love you without actually ever saying a word.
The entire journal is blank, because there is no way to express my love for you in words or any sort of physical symbolism.

You see, my love for you goes unnoticed, but that's okay because the way you tell me that I have galaxies under my eyelids & the way you stare at me while we watch Gossip Girl is why I don't care if you know I love you or not; I don't even care if you love me or not; all I care about is that you're still breathing in the morning & that you're still mine every night.

Your hands are sweaty before we go to bed & you always believe in me even when I don't believe in you.

You've tricked
me into loving
you;
You've given
me trust issues;
You made me
forget that
life isn't easy
& sometimes
being a good
person doesn't
always mean
that i'll end up
in bed with you
the following
night.

I now believe in you & you've given up on me;
you promised me an eternal life but what good is living forever if it's not spent kissing the back of your neck, & washing your body in the shower, & driving to the local bookstore just to sit in the car while we read each other's favorite book.

You make me feel safe
yet stupid at the same
                time.

I couldn't love you the way you love all the mountains & polar bears & extraterrestrial life forms;
& I couldn't speak to you in languages that you practically created by the way they clearly roll off your tounge like wheels during a rainstorm or a bowling ball in a swimming pool.

I love you but i'll
never
actually meet
the real
you;
I'll tell all of my friends
I don't believe in you
even though you're
just one
phone call away;
I'll tell all of my friends
I don't believe in love
even though your kisses
clearly make me remember
what it was like
to be a kid again &
absolutely
be in love with the
thought of one day
meeting someone
like
you,
someone as beautiful
as
you.

God is every word you've screamed my way & my idea of heaven is spending the night in your arms.

We may not have church to fall back on, but we have each other's shattered faith, & that's enough for us.