I've never been one for looking back,
nostalgia is a liar,
but when I think of us all
I am paralyzed.
we live in our boxes; land forgotten
by time, government, and one day
forgotten by us.

we flash our rosy liped smiles
and test the waters.
my boy! the moon in his
crystal eyes.
with our shins bruised and
laughs wandering, we use our
words as ammo; language exploited.

we have yet to give up fairy wings
and battleships.
nevermind
the late nights and headlights.

we sulk because we are so young.
we cry because everything is so
beautiful.

when we think back to these days
I hope you remember our nights;
stardust fires. a scorched galaxy
in full force.
we nearly kissed the sun.

-N.M.

you didn't like the way i answered the phone. you thought it was gross that i like vegetables on my pizza, and you told me i was
alien-looking as a child.
when i sent you a picture of the tattoo i wanted you told me it was weird.
you didn't know it was a tribute to my brother.
you told me what "love" meant sometime before the clock struck midnight  at the New Years Eve party
when everyone was either asleep or adrenaline filled. I went silent for two days afterwards. i didn't understand why our definitions were so different.
i would wince at every kissing scene on the television because they made me feel envious and small and a little sick.
you told me i was being unfair because you were trying to make it right and I decided we would be nothing more than friends. i told you we weren't just friends and we never would be. we were permanently stuck at an in-between. you told me your feeling for me never left and i'd picture you holding my hand. but those images would be shattered when i remembered you hiding in some other girl's bed. you'd always tell me every thought that popped into your head and i found it enduring. i told myself you deserved my ear.
but i really, really hope you have nothing left to say because i am no longer listening.
throw away my photo and cut the blue string that leads to me if you haven't yet. and please stop asking if i miss you because this is me saying...
i don't.

I never wanted to be described as pretty. People have told me upon meeting how pretty I was, and I despised it. I didn't want to be pretty. I did not want to be crushed and molded into that empty term; pretty.
I wanted to move mountains and dance on the stars. I wanted to spray paint on the moon. I wanted intelligence and courage, and wit and charisma. I was a novel, not a page.

then one day I finally realized that I could be both. we all could.
and that's how I live now.
we are all pretty. we all are made of stardust and memories and courage and charisma.
we are.

i love the rain.
i love how it softens the outlines of things.
the world becomes delicately blurred...
and i feel like
i can just mold into the earth.

my whole life I had told myself, "don't be afraid."
only after some years did i realize how ridiculous
the statement had become.
"don't be afraid."
that would be telling someone not to move
at a punch,
or not to flinch at the heat of fire.
i'm afraid and you're afraid and it will forever carry on like this.
what we should think is,
"i am afraid. but i will do this anyway."
live anyway.

there were galaxies between us
but you still needed space.

take a shot and run away from home just to find out that the open road was never yours to begin with. stay awake all night just to see how dull the darkness actually can be. break your own rules and lose the keys to your escape. go back home shouting that no one could stop you from leaving. you're begged to stay before you even pack your bags. because these days your friends are becoming as blurred as their morals and the teachers are doubting your innocence. keep your mouth shut for a month and never forget the words that burned holes into your throat.

stop planting flowers
in the yards of people who
aren't willing to
water them.

i'm done trying to solve the universe.
i believe it is time for the universe to try and solve me.

nothing ever ends poetically...
it just ends
and we turn it into poetry.
blood was never once beautiful.
it was just red.