i want him and i want you
you miss me and you miss her
you like me and you like her
you care for me and you care for her
you love her and you want her
you see me and you understand me
you know me and you choose her

this hurt to write - i like him so much - i wish he knew

Beware of assholes with pretty eyes
Dark hair and a crooked smile
Their hands are only loving at first
But they’ll soon begin to break your bones
And with each snap you’ll only fall deeper
Getting lost in the crystal blue of their iris
And you’ll open your mind, body and soul
So they’ll take you in their arms and eat you whole
They’ll dismantle your temple brick by brick
But you’ll still smile and thank them
Because their eyes put their victims in a trance
And you’ll be blind to see their true evil
Until it’s too late.

I. THE FALLING IN LOVE

i should have known

from how the very first thing you told me
was a lie, and your eyes captivated me,
perhaps because i could never read them;
you were a mystery

that it was wrong

for you to say you liked me, so soon
just because i brought you cookies
just because i did; i must have been so good
at falling in love that you thought
you were too

II. THE FALLING APART

i should have known

when you’d say you love me
but i’d find myself alone,
when i’m blue, when i’m in tears,
and you search for words
and come up empty

that it was wrong

except i’d gotten so used to it,
to making excuses, to finding comfort
in what you offered, to convincing myself
it meant more

III. THE HOLDING ON ANYWAY

i should have known

when i was too afraid to be honest; i knew
the hurt my words would cause; i knew
they could never be taken back, and that
we would both be left hollow

that it was wrong

if i ever hurt you i would have had to be
broken myself, shattered beyond repair; and
the bullet i would use to shoot you were the
pieces of metal i dug from my own heart
with shaking hands

i should have known
that it was wrong

and i did,

but i thought that if i kept quiet you would
never notice and i would rather live with you like
this, because you disable the ticking time bomb
of my heart and in its place a dull ache,
throbbing instead of beating, and because
if you left, no one would care if i exploded

ky Jan 6

He makes me feel a way you never once did,
but you both made me feel something.

He and I talk like we're best friends,
but we used to have conversations like strangers,
getting to know each other better
with each and every word.

And even though he makes me feel
just as happy as I felt with you,
I don't get a rush when I hear him say my name;
I don't look for him in a crowded room.

So I guess I just can't figure out
whether I fell for him to get over you
or so that he could lead me back.

phoenix Jan 4

My sadness isn't beautiful
It doesn't invite a boy
With galaxies in his eyes
And flowers in his lips
Unlike the romance told me

My sadness isn't beautiful
It made the hole out of you
Sink by darkness
That won't let you go

My sadness isn't beautiful
The darkness inside me
Whispers death
But the tiny voice in me
Screams survival

My tragedy isn't beautiful
As Shakespeare and poetry told me
And when I screamed for heroes
No one came
So I had to
Become one

Liz Carlson Jan 3

true colors show//with time on our side.
fingers touch//hearts race.
my mind goes wild//how wonderful you are.
miss you already//searching for a way back.
do you feel the same//just friends just won't do, this time.

Farrah Hanna Jan 2

i spent my evening
scrolling through pictures of
pretty boys on
the internet.
some have very soft faces.
some have very edged ones.
some remind me of you.
and of how hard it is to look you in the eye
when you talk and not get lost
in the vastness of the universe it holds within it.
the thing is, a picture of you
would never come up on
the internet;
you’re not that type of
pretty.
you are unnecessary
jokes and loud laughter;
you are the national museum of art
and papier mache sculptures of cartoon pigs;
you are messy
hair and the softest flannel shirt known to man;
you are the pale blue of your room and
Thoreau’s Walden; or Life in the Woods;
you are nu jazz and leaps down
flights of stairs.
but most of all,
you
are my smile
and my sense of comfort.

Next page