I love the way you put your stupid

hipster glasses on the collar of your

band t-shirts to fix your straight yet

messy brown hair that you haven't

washed in a week with a thick black

hair tie that you hate to wear on your

wrist when you don't need it because

it's so bulky so you put it in your front

pocket next to two strips of emergency

gum and a can of altiods which you

finish in a day and replace at night


I love when you air guitar in the

middle of Froyo Joe's most likely to a

song on The Front Bottoms CD you're

playing on your Walkman you got at

that one thrift store and everyone

stares at you then stares at me staring

at you, smiling and laughing so much.


And I love how you bow in the most

exaggerated way that anyone could

ever possibly bow because you air

guitared so impressively (you should

definitely start yourself a band) that

the unexpecting audience applauded

you for that marvelous performance

which definitely made their evening


And I love the way you look at me in

the train car when you're dragging me

to the next town because you finally

have enough money to go to the little

store that has the same name as that

one author you love and buy the

vintage coat that smells like moths and

depression because you want to wear

it and feel like a 1923 troubled rich

woman during an early midlife crisis.


I love when you tell me the things you

love about me at 3 a.m. in this diner

after you read to me that God-awful

poem about a woman who hates

shampoo and listens to blue grass

during all her classes and we're sitting

in this diner where all the food tastes

horribly like canola oil and salt and

I am immensely in love with you

the seasons have changed
we are back in touch and its like last summer all over again
the electricity
the euphoria
we are at the base of the tree that watched you grow last year
you are smoking your first cigarette and crying
we are swimming in the river, taking polaroid photos of each other in a thunderstorm
we are at our favorite coffee shop, despite the fact that you don't even like coffee
but
there is still an ocean between us
and now i have different things i am remembering
she is in your bed, sleeping in your arms
she is posting pictures of you kissing in the park and i am crying so hard that i go to the bathroom because i think i might throw up
you are flirting with her at a bar while i am boarding the plane to come see you
you are lying and compromising the times we had together just so she feels comfortable
and now
you tell me you love me even though you abadoned every single one of our memories
you are choosing her over me
again
and it is breaking my heart every single time that i inhale
although im no longer sorry about the front bottoms
i am sorry that i told you that i needed you
and you still picked her because it was more convenient
i am sorry you are realizing now that maybe you need me too

If I could steal another's words,
I swear I would have said,
"Be sure to kiss your knuckles,
before you punch me in the face."
If I would have had the guts,
I would have long before said stop.
I swear I would have said,
"Please stop your words
before they reach my ears."
I'd rather you have punched me in the face
Because I can forget the knuckle prints
But I can't let go of the word fits.