I think I am more than what the average person may be able to handle
I am loud and I am content, bright and forever moving even when time may stand still
And I am soft and I am kind, quiet and sitting lonely with thoughts considered exceptional
I am the heavy wind that tickles your nose and makes you run after your favourite beanie
And I am the soft droplets of rain that wets your hair and calms your soul, slowly
I am the bright lights that flash against your thoughts in a crowd filled with noise
And I am the ancient pearls your gran gifted that leaves your heart filled with poise
I am the cold coffee with extra sugar that you always make but never drink
And I am the gulps of laughter you swallow hot as you kiss her on the kitchen sink
I am the crumpled pieces of paper filled with incomplete sentences, thrown across your room
And I am the blue droplets of paint in your framed painting of tulips in bloom
I am the extra change in coins that you never use, the ones you throw across your car
And I am the notes found in your favourite song, the one that lets you feel as if your body is a star
I am the blood stained kitchen floor that makes you scream as you remember the night’s events
And I am the crisp smell of lilies that you lay on your white sheets to give off your favourite scents.
I am the emergency room at midnight, when a 15 year old boy is brought in with a face not considered his own
And I am the wedding chapel at 2pm, filled with blushing hope and displays of affection allowed to be shown
I am the end of the galaxy where chaos mixes with beauty and only destruction can be created
And I am the beginning of the universe filled elements and light in which life is celebrated
**I am so, so much. Perhaps too much, perhaps everything
But I shall continue to be nothing
Until I can feel something.

I tell him that three of his freckles disappeared today and that I can’t help but notice that his eye twitches twice before he falls asleep.
He sometimes wakes up to an empty bed at 2 in the morning. It is not because I can’t feel comfortable with his legs tangled in mine but, because I found the sight of not knowing where my body ended and his began so poetic.  
Some days, I feel as if I’m living life in the shadows. Always noticing but never seen, are words supposed to scream this loud?
He says that when we kiss, he has to dust the commas and colons off of my eyelid and that he repeats his sentences four times because he knows that during the first I was catching a thought, preventing it from flying away and that when he speaks for the second I’m trying to take notice of the exact degree he tilts his head and that by the third I’ve already crafted a stanza about the way he licks his lips in the cold.
I tell myself that I will not carry a pen wherever I go, but it doesn’t matter because on certain days, even my bone marrow writes poetry about the cells dying and being born in my blood – supernovae of molecule scale.
My brother tells me that my quadratic equations are written in limerick form and that he does not know why I’m taking Calculus and Statistics if I already know a formula for the perfect novel.
The truth is, I don’t know why I notice the way my love wrings his hands twice when I ask him where he’s been – is that lavender I smell?
I know that he tells me the truth, but the other voice in my head can’t help but make me ask him why he drank his coffee with milk instead of creamer today.
He tells me that he loves me by holding me far too tight when I’m sad, so that he can crush the blue out of me and by barely touching me when I’m happy, afraid that he’ll break my spirits, he knows that my pink is a Porcelain Doll – fragile.
*He doesn’t use any words, and for once, this is enough for me.

i. I almost forgot the taste of cold blood on my lonely tongue and tears in my throat but then I found your old poetry book and I felt glass shards fall into my mouth as I read over every single pathetic word you wrote.

ii. I almost forgot the taste of broken promises under my bent bones and honey in my skin but then I saw your pictures in the paper and I felt firecrackers explode in my ribs as I looked at her head tucked in your chin.

iii. I almost forgot the taste of winter dew on my summer’s dress and apple cinnamon in my hair but then I visited your old vintage café and I felt too bitter coffee drown my limp body without as much as a care.

iv. I almost forgot the taste of caramel kisses on my hips and cotton candy in my lungs but then I heard your voice and I felt sour sweets bury my candy cane skeleton as I listened to the verse you sung.

v. I almost forgot the taste of dead roses on my hands and black violets in my heart but then I remembered your proposal and I felt diamonds cut open my burning flesh as I thought of your abrupt depart.

That’s it.
I almost forgot.
I almost forgot what it was like to meet you, to love you, to lose you.
But then, I remembered.
I simply remembered meeting you and loving you and most horribly, losing you.
Who knew an act so simple could be so terrifying to do?
But then again, who knew a human made of cartilage and 70% water could be too?
But I guess you weren't really made from all that,
You were made from cinnamon and chestnut,  
from 45% stardust and 10% gold,
And a part of you was painted to look like the sky and the rest of you, like the ocean, cold.
Well, at least in my eyes you were, still are.
And I think that’s why I can never truly forget you, no matter how hard I try, no matter how I run, how far.

I still remember the boy with roses for fingers and not thorns for hands.
I still remember the boy with oceans for eyes and not storms for body lands.
I still remember the boy with gold for blood and not oil for veins.
I still remember the boy with love in his heart and not a heart full of pain.

Do I love him? I don’t know
Do I miss him? I don’t let it show
Do I want him? I can’t be sure
Do I need to forget him? As fast as I can or I'm going to go mad searching for a cure.

*~ {I have trouble remembering a lot of things, but I can’t seem to forget you}~

Cigarettes aren’t hands to hold
And bottle mouths aren’t lips to kiss
But it’s much better lighting yourself on fire when you’re cold
Then giving someone else the power to burn your wrists
Because I’ve seen it all,
What love does to pathetic boys and girls who fall
It forces them to build castles in the clouds even though they've never believed in happy endings
And it makes them bleed out their organs and break their bones when they’re pretending
Love, it always comes. So sweet. So innocent. So delicate.
It tickles you pink and makes you believe that it’s all real, all definite
But it’s not. It’s just raw and confusing and most of all sappy
And if it’s all of that, it’s bound to be messy
And you can’t leave a mess, you have to clean it up and make things right
And when you do, Love will leave you.
Leave you standing alone on a rainy night,
Leave you crying on the bathroom floor,
Leave you chopping out your heart because it resides in your core,
Leave you wishing that you were dead instead of burning alight.
Love does that to you, it comes and you think its job is to save you
But all it does is destroy what you were, making you numb and blue
So I’d rather sit alone and hold my cigarette
And kiss my bottles of amnesia that let me forget
Because I know, I know they’re made to **** me
My demise is something that I can always clearly see

*~{Love’s a liar. And a cheat. But most of all, love’s a beautiful catastrophe that makes you fall for the pretty and forget about the mess”}

People are dangerous
They send sickening, sweet words tumbling down your throat
And burn your skin as they engrave their favourite quotes
They kiss you on your soft spots, in quiet places with a tenderness too delicate
And leave little notes on your back bones and kneecaps with designs so intricate
They give you all of the stars in just one pair of dull eyes
And manage to remove all the grey clouds without touching the skies
They make you shed all your blood in just one night
And pick up your broken pieces without as much as a fright
They tangle their veins in the threads of your golden hair
And grow flowers in your lungs so that you have no air
They arrive with a wonder that leads you to believe that they’re lightening
And paint your world in such bold colours you finally see everything brightening
They turn your insides upside down, make your head spin around and your smile 3 times wider
And then they just leave. They ******* leave as if it’s the easiest thing to do, leave you to live in yourself as an outsider.
                                      *{My biggest fear is another}