I wish you'd never told me.
Now I'm laying in bed,
torn between feeling sorry for myself,
hating you,
and trying to move on.
As I lay here I think back
"I like him,
I don't know if I could love you as more than a friend,
if our relationship can get deeper".
Why did you say it then?
Why did you tell me my feelings were reciprocated?

You doused my burning heart in water,
and now there's no glow at all,
not even a flicker.

i look into the bottom of my plastic cup;
the one stained with lipstick on the rim and beer foam oozing down the sides
and suddenly i don’t hate you as much as i thought i did.
i begin to love you
to want all of you
but i never knew what love really was
because when it was your turn to drink just to feel,
and you had suddenly begun to feel the same as me,
i realized that i definitely never knew what love was.
i just knew what wanting something bad for you truly felt like
and wanting it so bad felt so **** good
and wrong
but also right, in some kind of ****** up way.
and it felt like cheap beer,
and heartbreak,
and nothing past what happened secretly in your room between us
and the ever familiar sheets.
because when the cup is empty
and the keg is tapped
we slowly swim out of our muddied minds
and pry ourselves away from each other’s hot sticky bodies.
and i don’t stay.
i shrug on my clothes and bite my lip
all to not kiss you goodbye
and i leave that room that smells like bad decisions,
and finally know...
finally realize,
drunk love is always deeper than it actually is,
and what it truly is behind my romanticizing heart
is that it’s nothing.
it’s nothing but a few minutes of ecstasy
and you will still feel the same about me when you’re sober.
you will still need a few drinks to feel the way i felt.
so i don’t love you, right?
i drunk love you, and nothing more.
you’ve made that clear.
so my drunk love is a sinking boat,
and here i am again
drowning in my beer.

I wrote this poem for you
Knowing you'll never read it
I tried to rhyme my pain away
Knowing you'll never heal it

I start my day with you on my mind
Knowing you'll never be mine
I end my day trying to dream of you
Knowing it's the closest I can get
to feeling your warmth

I hurt myself now and again
Believing I will one day matter
Only to be dismissed too easily
Too small, too uninteresting
Not your type

Maybe tomorrow I'll realise how to stop measuring my worth
Based on how much time
and effort
and attention
you give me.
Maybe tomorrow you'll stop
being the subject of all this poetry.

It's always when we lose touch
That I feel the weight of your absence in my life
Like a loneliness I know is always coming back
Even when you're back

At times I wonder,
Is it worth it for us to ever speak again?
Just knowing
How you drift so-
So quickly in and out of my life
Seeming so unaffected by my absence in yours

Am I being taken for granted?

They always say-
"Distance makes the heart grow fonder,"
So where is yours?

Never mind.
I understand.
You have your life.
She's yours, you're hers
Each others.
1 + 1 = 2 and 3 is a crowd
Even as friends.

But if I'm family, as you called me,
Why does every time we talk feel like
The last time?

Don't families- well, real families,
Always want to keep in touch?
Yet this emotion churning in my heart
Tells me we're more like estranged twins
All due to someone's jealousy

But as long as she makes you happy,
Or who you need to be,
Then maybe losing you is worth it.
After all, we never made each other happy
We just felt reciprocated.

I.
i kept my eyes off.
turning to face away,
as if god might have tapped me on the shoulder,
and told me to let my love smolder.
my eyes followed the distractions,
as they beat on marimbas,
and as i kept his gaze,
it started to feel like
they were beating
my ribcage

II.
heartbeat altered,
i began to falter.
moving my sight from the dancing mallets,
to my lukewarm palms,
that seemed to tear in passion.
in a sudden fashion,
i raised his head
and looked straight at it
with its wary eyes closed,
and i thought,
that i might have heard,
with a rush of raising concerns,
a heart shatter in shallow nearness,
like a shaky hand might have dropped a crystal.

III.
after the shatter,
my heart began to patter,
at a faster tempo in spite of the latter.
it is because of this,
that i promised to never looked again.