Why don't you look at me?
Why don't we ever talk?
We're both so similar:
Both quiet and calm.
I like to think we're smart.
We have similar views on things
And get each others jokes!

Yet we don't talk a lot.
And you don't look at me.

At break you always sit there
Staring at your phone.
All alone.
But you never look at me.
You never say hello.
Only rarely say goodbye.
But never look me in the eye.

You never text me first.
However, if you do,
You ask me what the homework was.
Is there nothing else you'd like to ask?

We spoke before, on a bus ride home.
Or at the theatre, we even sat together!
But it felt awkward and forced.
I started it, of course.

Though you have texted me once.
This summer.
You said 'hello'
And asked me how I was.

Yet we don't talk a lot.
And you don't look at me.

When cereal is being made
and someone fumbles a batch
but doesn’t dispose of it
it can end up in your bowl

Not something to panic over
though you will
as it can turn the face red upon consumption

Not like leaving the gym
more of a tomato with a fever

Vegetation subsiding over time
left paralyzed in confusion
but still with a stomach quite full

Wishy Washy.

Tumbling,

Between high and low,

Hot and cold.

Am I delicate like the load of whites? do I need to refresh my color with a strong drink- bleach?

Or am I tough and resistant like denim? toss me in for an hour, shove soap down my throat, and I'll come out like new?

Maybe I'm a mixed load, balancing between the two; teeter-tottering from feeling to feeling.

When I look at him I see the hate in my eyes
The jealous rage that lives in my heart
Is the very thing that now tears me apart
Not I felt miserable
Every time I see him with someone
Later days felt incomplete
Feeling my mixed emotions
Felt my heart beats

sleeping tears awoke to crimson crust & apple red veins,
eyes peering through the dizzying fog to find a faucet
& drizzle rain like nectar down the peach pit's core,
along rugged edges & oval pores,

imperfect patterns & lightning blinks
remind the second sadness to cry once again.

My swipe of crust is rusting
like a smoker's yellowing finger tips gathering paint on callouses
& cracked lips

mirrored reflections shadow gaze,
squinting to locate bronze crow's feet of a man, mid thirties,
lying for what-to die
dying to wait-for what

Used to have nothing,
got into his hands the opportunity,
wanted it so desperately,
he also looked desperate.
Now why should only we fight?
Let the other side of your dream,
let it to move towards you as much as YOU move towards it. Both ways either cross or not. If not, well ... The end.

The never-ending chattering
Like a bullet train forcefully dashing
Across the endless tunnel, wondering,
“Is this a curse or a blessing? “

In the bottomless pit, clearly drowning
Clearly struggling
While others are just intently watching
Thinking it’s all just... acting.

And sometimes when the stars
shine as bright as your eyes, and the moon
pulls me in as deeply as the waves, I
wonder what may have become of us
had I not reached out to you
that January.

My keyboard may not have been glued
to my thumbs and my heart may have kept
its normal rhythm, but my smile would
not have been as wide. My eyes would not
sparkle at the sound of your name, for my heart
would not have tied its strings around it, and
you would not have become the source of
my laughter. My hands would not
crave the touch of yours and my lips would
not miss their other half. My favourite songs
would not make my eyes glimmer like they do
now, your cologne would be just another scent
and my heart would not be shattered.

I love you.
I love you for loving me. For showing
me what it was like to be consumed with
overwhelming joy. For making me the
brightest star in your solar system, when
I was only a diamond in the rough. For always
being there when I needed you. For accepting
me as the emotional wreck I was. For
letting me be entirely myself, and for letting
me love you with my entire being.

I hate you.
I hate you for sadness I felt. For being so
loveable that I couldn't have stopped myself
even if I'd tried. For making me love you
so much that I forgot what it was like to
ever live without you. For loving me so much
that when you left it felt like someone turned
off every light in the universe and cut off my
oxygen supply. For making it impossible for
any other boy to compare to you.

I like to think that we may have still ended up
together had I not made the first move. That
you would have seen me walking through the
crowd and reached out to me instead. That our
love story was meant to be.

That if we had been more careful
we would still be together
and you might still love me.