If it were up to me you see, I would've been holding your hands from the beginning.
If it were up to me, pens would feel comfortable between your fingers, poetry would feel natural flowing from your lips
If it were up to me it would feel less of sandpaper and concrete
Instead, more of silk and lollipops to your tongue in the middle of summer
If it were up to me you wouldn't hate summer, you would adore it
If it were up to me you'd look forward to fresh strawberries and mangoes, the wind hot on your face like my breath would be to your chest
Curled up in your arms listening to your heart beat, waiting for you to stop wishing for it to stop
If it were up to me I would lay by your side each night, holding you close, patiently waiting for you to slip into slumber before letting myself do the same
If it were up to me I'd keep you from anything harmful
If it were up to me the sun in the morning would signify survival, not failure
If it were up to me the sunset would paint the sky with reds and oranges and purples every night to give you a reason to keep going
If it were up to me you'd look in the mirror and see the stars in your eyes rather than storms
If it were up to me your cheeks would be stained with loving pink kisses from the sun rather than tears made of salt and self loathing      
If it were up to me you would've held my hands and felt content from the start, rather than grasping onto them hoping to find something
Other
Than
Summer

The days
between October and December
are a black hole of
false promises.
The past nets
reminders that
changing leaves
and sweater weather
still feel lonely
no matter how
much orange
you dress it up in.

You stand here kissing the light.
A halo of red leaves fall past your head
Your lips leave sparks on my cheek
Your eyes are as steady as tree trunks
The touch of your hand,
Makes the wind roar.
Will you catch me if I fall?
I already am.
My shirt ripples like waves in the  sea,
I wish to fall forever.
Because your mountain lion purr is my new favorite song,
I feel that your mysterious mind is made of music,
Each breath is a tune, each word is a melody,
You smell like brown cabins and daisies,
Your naked feet are the mud I am stuck in.
H e l p
I'm going to hit the ground and disappear into your orange hands.

You stand here kissing the light.
The gray skies are meant to be your background
Your rosy cheeks look far too kissable,
While you dance as if it's all you know how to do.
Every glance you grant me is a blessing and a  s i n,
Memories of lip balm and car rides flood my brain.
My dress is soaked, I'm drowning in you,
I wish you were lost in me too.
Your baffling blonde hair blinds me,
I can no longer see where I step.
Caught in a whirlpool, drinking all your thoughts,
Cold evenings, sweaty bodies,
You smell like blue trampolines and bubblegum.
This love is a shipwreck,
Oh God, This daydream has an expiration date,
I can't live off empty kisses and blue eyes.

You stand here kissing the light.
And breathing burgundy words.
Your hands are searching for a spark,
But your touch is as light as a bumble bees.
When you laugh, I no longer feel alone,
Because you make my heart beat again.
I stand on tiptoe and kiss your habitual hat,
Wishing I could be happy in your arms.
You are a sunny serene statue
In this seriously fast-paced fast-racing world.
But, notes passed and dying embers won't save me from
H o l l o w  car rides home.
You smell like warm blankets and hot sauce.
I warn you not to drink me,
I am spoiled milk.
Get out, before it's too late,
I don't love your yellow mind like I should.

You stand here kissing the light.
A rainstorm strikes when you laugh,
Your bare back is the sturdy ship,
I am stranded on in this wide ocean.
I'm stuck in the jungle of your mind,
The story of you is locked in my bones,
You're wild, green, and reckless,
I'm etranced.
Our various vivacious ventures leave me in    r e v e r i e,
craving something I can't quite name.
Yet, smoky rooms and video games
can't protect me from these
black thoughts.
You smell like cinnamon and *****,
In this moment, that feels like home.
But god, I can't tell if I'm healing or hurting,
And I don't know if you'll survive
the hole in my heart,
Still, I'll kiss your brown lips,
and hope that you do

What peace it seemed, in the orange sun on this day
the colour that of jasper sunsets
yet it was 2:52pm


and I could think of nothing
but you


as the sand blew from the Sahara
the aftermath, the eye of that hurricane,
hazing in it’s most humid saffron


Isn’t chaos such a horrifically beautiful concept?
perhaps only that.


Filled with rage, rage that tastes like raw Astrid copper
copper so heavy that turned the sun
the sun that lit up my moon


And turned my chaos, to peace
For you could stop hurricanes

my serenity,
my wonder,
my love.

I will be a window
and the secrets you tell with your lips.
The sighs you blanket with the softest care
and the breaths you unknowingly count.

I will be the reminder of every second spent
and every moment felt.
A contradiction of your judgement
and a compliment of your beliefs.

I will be the ink of each unwritten imitation
of every mediocre song.
The scent of orange peel that trails on the
extravagant curves of your fingernails.

(3.19.09)