darling, your eyes have seen far too many of my gloomy hurricane days for you to still be here. i tucked away parts of me in hopes that my wild would go unnoticed but you read me bedtime stories and kiss my best friends. i want to ask you if your calluses hurt. i want to ask you if you hurt at all. i want to make us better. i tried to make you jealous months ago, i tried to move on. i actually kissed him that time, don't you mind? i used to feel like sinking deep into my thinking cave and drowning… but you swam there and coaxed me out, or maybe it was the other way around. now i watch you watching me. we sit in your car and don't drive until we've found what we’re looking for. nights pass like nights do and I think i'm okay with being so in love with you.

By this time next year
I wonder where I will be
This page shows my identity
The wrongs and rights done to me
What I'm feeling is evident in all my readings
So what will my hello poetry say
This time next year
I hope it's happy
I hope my poems read with an element of sanity
But who knows
Maybe I won't be alive to write anything
I honestly wonder where I will be
This time next year

You know its something they say about that gut feeling,
That gut feeling that's always right,
That gut feeling that tells you something's wrong.

The gut never lies.
But sometimes, just sometimes. . .

You wish your gut was WRONG for once.
Just this time.