The Spring this year was cloudy,
Darkness ******* my sunlight
Many mornings were stormy
and bitter were most nights

That was until I met you.

I met you in July
and then the heat stopped burning
I met you by accident
and then I suddenly stopped hurting.

I'm so happy to have met you.

The energy you give delivers light
You make my heart feel light again,
It bounces every morning,
waiting just to see your grin
You make me want to shine again
and I can't thank you enough for that.

Please stay for a while,
It's been a long time since I've shined so bright.
I might not dull out again with you in my hand.

I'm bursting into flames
Under your warm hands
And i'm kissing the sun,
When our lips are meeting.
The heat is melting our bodys
Until they are one together.
Our passion is burning us down
And is letting us rise from the dead.
More beautiful and better,
Existing as an other
Glorious sun.

A friendly reminder that I want to be yours
in your ever present state of bliss and intrigue.
I want to sit under stars
and feel the warmth of your arm on my neck,
as we sit and ponder the possibilities of you and me.
I want to hear your laugh as a welcome home,
good morning,
good night,
hello,
but never as a goodbye.
With laughs and minor accents of home.

You remind me of airports, plotted plants, dogs,
and Saturday morning cartoons.
I remind you of puns, the smell of paper, and your favourite movie.
But I want to  remember you lying on he couch half-asleep
curled up with a pillow
and disheveled hair covering your eyes.
Remembering your sweatpants, long hair, paint stains, and stickers.
Sneaking sandwiches and comics,
text messages, and knowing smiles,
tight hugs.

Just a friendly reminder, to remember me when you leave.

Subject to the inadequacy
as result of one faulty gene that resides within me,
I smile.
I smile with teeth too large for my small mouth,
and dimples like caverns
that remind me
that some holes are meant to be there.

His eyelashes flutter against my cheek, awake,
and I can feel the two years away from him.
He is rainy days and the first snow fall of the year.
He is the first time I lied to my parents,
he is the summer carnival,
and the 3am shoulder to cry on.
He comes when he is meant to come,
and leaves when he is meant to leave.
But that doesn't mean that when he does,
it doesn't hurt, because it did.

And then I realize
that no matter how tightly
he can hold me,
or how many poems I write,
he is the last fallen leaf of autumn,
and I am the first frost of winter.
Almost,
but not quite.

Unwillingly,
I will spend the rest of my life
looking for something that cannot me found.

The way you never cease to smile,
the way your nose wrinkles when you're confused,
or the way you grip my hair when you
fold me into your arms,
and laugh to hard,
and get too close for comfort,
and manage to brighten a room
without doing a thing,
and never understanding the use of a semi-colon.
Or, how you could never seem
to write your sentences correctly
and end up rambling on and on
until I can hear your thoughts through cold lips.

Can I just say,
I will spend the rest of my life,
hoping to find another you.

It would be an honour
to have my heart broken by you.
Tell me you miss me,
and I will bleed every promise you've carved into my smile.
You were never really mine,
so tell me why the **** losing you hurt so much.

You were never good with words.
I didn't realize that what you meant was
you could never say something you actually meant.
I get it now-you were never good with the truth.

It's always you.
Your feelings,
Your heart,
Your mind.

Not me,
Or my sanity,
Or my peace.
Never me.

Always your happiness,
And your pains,
And you telling me
About how I'm wrong again.

And it's always you
That's right,
That's on the chopping block,
Not me.

It's never me,
That's hurting,
That's crying
While you're talking
About yourself,
Your needs,
On the other side.

It's never about me.

I am who I loved.

To you, I am childhood innocence.
I am pig-tails and the jungle gym.
I am the park and mismatched socks.
You lit up a room and I was your shadow.
For years of recess I thought you were always It.
I am positivity and enthusiasm.
I am childhood fantasy dreams.

To you, I am practice.
I am a bus transfer that took you to your next stop.
I complained every time you refused to play a song for me.
In the end, I was the only one that got played.
I am painful loyalty and forgiveness.
I am mistaken.

To you, I am a fresh start.
I am the butterflies in your stomach and comfort.
We made sense. Everything that we were worked.
I am sensible decisions and logical emotions.
I'm sorry that wasn't enough.
I am independence.

To you, I am an adventure.
I am late night conversations and the first time I lied to my parents.
Knowing you was like the moment you reach the top of the swings all the time. It was discovery and unexplored territory.
Neither of us understood.
I am recklessness and helpless romanticism.
I am not quite love.

To you, I am familiarity.
If you are the joke, I am the punchline.
I am who I always wished I could be.
For the first time in my life, being with you terrified me because I never wanted to lose you. I am knees that can't help but buckle whenever you smile, and eyes of reassurance and safety.
I am risks and rewards. I am blind faith and belief for a better tomorrow. I am sleepless nights spent crying from laughter. I am awkward hand holding and hiding from parents.
I am confident and protecting.
I am young love.

To you,
thank you.