I hope you find someone who kisses your cheek and tucks you in when you fall asleep.
I hope you find someone who already has a movie put in waiting for you to come home.
I hope you find someone who can order your food for you.
I hope you find someone your mother likes.
I hope you find someone who holds a grudge against your elementary school bullies just like you do.
I hope you find someone who lays on your chest while you're watching tv.
I hope you find someone your dog can cuddle, or cat can cozy up against.
I hope you find someone that makes you snort when you laugh.
I hope you find someone that answers every out of place phone call with, "Are you okay?"
I hope you find someone that tells you they love you in front of friends and company.
I hope you find someone.

I hope you find someone that supports every decision you've ever made.
Those decisions led you to them,
and if they realize that:
Congratulations, you found your someone.

you ask me

“do you like making music?”

kiss me on the cheek

I look at

my hands resting on your keyboard, almost still

turn around and

reply with a big smile

“yeah, yeah I do”

I would like to say in an unimpressed tone

that I have heard this all before

that this is not new

but it is.

with you I am different,

happy.

for a little while,

I forget what I am

what i feel

forget about flinging my body down the stairwell

forget about the feeling of my fingertips pulling at my skin

hoping I can tear it apart

I forget for a little while

just long enough to make me believe the world is fine

that everything will be okay

that I am okay

that I am not just a celexa girl

who writes sad poetry

that death would not be blissful to me

because I have you

and only you

sometimes it feels like you are the only one who cares when everything is closing in

you tell me I am always nice and soft

when I have felt like I was the opposite of that

for so so long

being with you is almost unbelievable

like you know all the right things to say to make my heart feel as if it has made the right decision by still continuing to beat

and I know that all of this cliché.

everything I write about you is a cliché mess

a mix of happiness and beautiful things I am too afraid to say to your face

the things I only write in poems

tell you when I think you are asleep

while I lay down

almost still

calm,

breathe softly

read you this poem

and then

say goodnight and goodbye.

thank you,

for letting me

let you in.

even if you

were not awake

to know

Well your legs are
Beautiful.
Your watch Is simple
Yet priceless.
You face,
Elegant like prince
Harry'
Wife.
You style,
Well if I had
Words for it,
I wouldn't
Be a
college student.

I'm not kidding.

I'll love to
eat you out,
Then maybe take you
Out.
But I'm broke,
So maybe we could
Eat at home
And you can tell
Me why you hate your
Husband so much.

Maybe

"I daydream
Of romance,
I daydream
Of you."

I’ve got nothing
For you.
I wish I did,
You know I don’t.

I hate love songs,
They sound like misplaced
Feelings of a young boy.
A boy who doesn’t understand
That things change
And some wounds
Can’t be healed with bandages.

So I turn of the radio
Cause I don’t want to think
About you.

What do you do,
When you feel helpless.
Unloved and unwanted,
I don't not know
I only know how to drink.
When I'm happy or sad.
But never unwanted,
Cause I'm never sober
Enough to know
What it feels like.

I should have grabbed your
Hand.
Pulled you close to me
And lied.
Lied that I don't like blonds or
That one girl, with the blond
Hair.
How romantic right?
Me staring into your eyes and
You staring back.
But then you'll know the truth.
That I'm just a lost puppy
looking for a home,
A place to stay,
A girl to listen
And some wine to drink.

But you can't know this
And you never will.
Instead you'll know half of it,
That I do like your hair and I think
About it.
Brown with blonde stripes.
I like the way you talk,
Especially when your drunk
Without a care in the world.

****, now you'll think I'm a *****
Spilling all this **** to you.
The truth is I like you
Mostly because you truly understand sacarsim.
And I can feel the
bitterness in the undertone of your
Voice.
Maybe I'm just projecting.

‘Almost’,
Is the saddest word in the world,
Aside from ‘He almost died,’
It’s blackened and shrivelled and curled,
It's chances never taken,
Opportunities that we miss,
Dreams that somehow got squandered,
Breath that could have turned to a kiss,
But I am one of the loved ones,
I believe that I’m good for you,
Because we could almost make it,
We could almost see it through,
These imperatives you use,
Could all be turned so morose,
"She did it, she said it, she was it”,
If they only incorporate almost,
See I could be smart, I could be pretty,
But I’ll try not to boast,
I promise everything’s great,
Everything’s fine,
I’m happy,
So happy,
Almost.