i feel like i drank too much coffee.
just a side effect of my heart strings pulling
trying to find you, even though i was the one who dropped you off
at the airport.

i got home feeling cracked open
no coffee spilled out
just 'i miss you's and lint

you left a t-shirt for me. i wanted something to smell like you.
i fear i will never wash it again

you text me when you get home
to tell me that you got there safely
and i smile wide
but i wonder

how can you be home
when you just left me

and by more i don't mean
"i love you more
than you love me"

i mean
"i love you more
and more each day.

i love you more
each time you text me goodmorning
and even more when you whisper goodnight.
i love you more
after every softly stolen kiss and more
after holding your hand across the parking lot.

i love you more
even when you're leaving me
and more when you beg me to come with you

you complain about how people
can hardly see the difference between your pupil and your iris,
because your eyes are so dark
but i love the way
i can see my reflection smiling after your lips turn up

you call me hot, babe, honey
i call you ******, loser, simp

you have to leave me in two months
when your future catches up to you
but i'm the one with 'goodbye' hovering on my tongue

i'm trying to make up for three months of love poems
that i couldn't bring myself to write
but i can feel my bitterness leaking through

i can’t immortalize you now that i can count the days until you leave me on one hand

and you tell me horrible things like
“i’ll wait for you” and you say terrible words like
“i promise” and i cant seem to do anything but cry and need you

consider this my goodbye
it’s the only one i can bear to give

maybe i like poetry
because i can't commit to things for long

your smile is sweet but i'm trying to find cracks
these kisses taste like honey, but i'm thinking about going vegan

you talk about the future and my tears taste like salt
so you hold me tight to keep them in

but you don't say everything will be okay

i always fancied myself a eurydice
the perfect victim in a perfect tragedy

but you have me feeling like orpheus
and i can't stop wondering if i would have looked back

and i know i would have if you asked me to

you gave me the first feelings that i don't have words for

i got some things to do, but i don't want to do 'em
i got some things to say, i will never say 'em to your face
i lost my lungs, i don't really need 'em
i lost my heart, i don't really need it anymore
I AM IN LOVE WITH SOMEBODY AND GUESS WHAT? IT'S NOT YOU
IT'S NOT YOU
you are in love with somebody, yeah, you love yourself so well
love yourself so well
smokey hands and sweaty palms
black water and half-clear lungs
and now i'm not going home
broken bottles and ***** dishes
acid flashbacks in your kitchen
you know i'm not going home
i am in love with somebody and guess what? it's not you
it's not you
you are in love with somebody, yeah, you love yourself so well
love yourself so well
there's someone else
they love them well
someone else
they love them
i got some things to do, but i don't want to do 'em
i got some things to say, i will never say 'em to your face
i got some things to do, but i don't want to do 'em
i got some things to say, i will never say 'em to your face
to your face
there's someone else
they love them well
there is someone else
they love them

we both got sweatshirts for christmas
i hope we can trade sometime

someone told me i fall for kind people because i can't stop letting everyone walk all over me, and at least the kind ones will try not to leave bruises. and i laughed like it was a joke and i was the punchline, but i found another bruise in the mirror last night.

i fell for another kind person, but the problem is that kind people lie. and i never know how to distinguish the black and white from the grey. i'll never know if you like me because you treat everyone like stardust and glass.

but i actually am stardust and glass. i am precious and fragile and everywhere and i need to be held. i want it to be by you. but people that weren't as kind already broke me and now if you touch me the way i want you to you'll cut yourself. and blood doesn't wash out of a doormat.

so i don't initiate conversation. i hope you can't see my broken heart on my sleeve because it has your initials written on it in ink. i haven't decided how close i'll let you look. but maybe one day i'll let you walk all over me and hope that i feel like home.