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#unrequited-love
It's 2 am and I want to know why my hands are still twisting knots in my hair, trying to busy themselves from writing out "I love you, sometimes." I don't know when I don't, but I'm hoping it's in me somewhere because if not, I have no hope to ever say that with any conviction. I mean, maybe if I was a little drunk I could pretend to laugh at you. But, really, you fill up my whole heart. I hate it in the way people hate beautiful things that they can't have, like a kid in a candy store. It is child-like, how I cry over you. And you don't notice, not really. I can see it in the way children pick leaves off trees and let them fall to the ground without second thought after the initial satisfying snap. Every time I see a sunflower, head bowed with the heaviness of its petals, I'll think of you. Snow reminds me of you too. In fact, most things remind me of you. I would say only sometimes, but that's a lie I can't even tell myself.
0
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 1:51 AM UTC
More Often than Not
I watch myself fade and wilt in your eyes like valentines flower petals from their vase, falling onto the white desk dirtied with graphite and candy wrappers below. There's thirty one letters from colleges and three love notes left there to peel up at the corners and get stuck with bubblegum but nothing leaves the taste of metal in my mouth more than "Michigan". I'm terrified every day of you leaving. I'm more terrified of your hair being out of place and your smile not being the way I remember it. Do you ever think of the way it would be if you loved me back? Sometimes I wish you'd force yourself into things the way I always do when I'm fitting into prom dresses or looking into my own eyes in the mirror, trying to decide if they're green or hazel like my mom insists every time I fill out a passport application. Think of how my hands would look in yours, the way my chipped nail polish would match your veins, thinly creeping up your arms like you haven't tried to carve them out with office supplies and hours of crying in circles. Sometimes I think I ought to just kiss you, remind you that it's easy to fake things. You should know. Sometimes I dream of holding the side of your face in the bold and silently rotting static of my room and saying "let's run away" and we don't really go anywhere, it's just us, the very edge of the half moon of our shoulders touching, warm like sunshine on pebbles. Most of the time, I don't wish for much. I just wish I could stare into your eyes for even a second without feeling the blood run into my face. Or just that I could look at you. You feel like forever and a universe away and I don't know if that's because you're so perfect or because I only ever see you after your hockey games, which ended exactly five days ago, by the way. Not that I'm counting or anything. And not to say that I miss the way that when I hugged you, I could feel your shoulder blades and the gentleness of your hand on my back, but I'd give anything to feel that again. I never knew if it was as awkward for you as it was life saving for me. You still have no idea how much I looked forward to seeing you even for those painful few minutes where, despite us not making eye contact once, you'd smile at least three times, every time. Again, not that I've been counting. Maybe it was just because you were anxious, but that's okay. They say it helps. I don't know who "they" are, but at this point, I trust anything that holds hope to make you happy. To be honest, I'm not really even sure what your voice sounds like, but I know your laugh like I know the crooked tip of my nose or the smell of vanilla incense. It's all I can think about when I go to sketch anymore, but I can't get the lines right. Amen to that, because I never want to be so in love with a single moment again and because really, I never want it to be over. I just want to make you laugh forever. I just want to see the way your eyes crinkle like that until the sun swallows itself whole and then we all can't see anything ever again. I'd want it just like that, the last light flickering as you come as close to happy as you can be. I'll make you laugh until you're dumb and dizzy and maybe then you'll love me. And maybe you would have to be dumb to love me. But I'll still kiss your nose every night in my dreams and pretend I mean anything to you like you do me.
0
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
Rambling
I watch myself fade and wilt in your eyes like valentines flower petals from their vase, falling onto the white desk dirtied with graphite and candy wrappers below. There's thirty one letters from colleges and three love notes left there to peel up at the corners and get stuck with bubblegum but nothing leaves the taste of metal in my mouth more than "Michigan". I'm terrified every day of you leaving. I'm more terrified of your hair being out of place and your smile not being the way I remember it. Do you ever think of the way it would be if you loved me back? Sometimes I wish you'd force yourself into things the way I always do when I'm fitting into prom dresses or looking into my own eyes in the mirror, trying to decide if they're green or hazel like my mom insists every time I fill out a passport application. Think of how my hands would look in yours, the way my chipped nail polish would match your veins, thinly creeping up your arms like you haven't tried to carve them out with office supplies and hours of crying in circles. Sometimes I think I ought to just kiss you, remind you that it's easy to fake things. You should know. Sometimes I dream of holding the side of your face in the bold and silently rotting static of my room and saying "let's run away" and we don't really go anywhere, it's just us, the very edge of the half moon of our shoulders touching, warm like sunshine on pebbles. Most of the time, I don't wish for much. I just wish I could stare into your eyes for even a second without feeling the blood run into my face. Or just that I could look at you. You feel like forever and a universe away and I don't know if that's because you're so perfect or because I only ever see you after your hockey games, which ended exactly five days ago, by the way. Not that I'm counting or anything. And not to say that I miss the way that when I hugged you, I could feel your shoulder blades and the gentleness of your hand on my back, but I'd give anything to feel that again. I never knew if it was as awkward for you as it was life saving for me. You still have no idea how much I looked forward to seeing you even for those painful few minutes where, despite us not making eye contact once, you'd smile at least three times, every time. Again, not that I've been counting. Maybe it was just because you were anxious, but that's okay. They say it helps. I don't know who "they" are, but at this point, I trust anything that holds hope to make you happy. To be honest, I'm not really even sure what your voice sounds like, but I know your laugh like I know the crooked tip of my nose or the smell of vanilla incense. It's all I can think about when I go to sketch anymore, but I can't get the lines right. Amen to that, because I never want to be so in love with a single moment again and because really, I never want it to be over. I just want to make you laugh forever. I just want to see the way your eyes crinkle like that until the sun swallows itself whole and then we all can't see anything ever again. I'd want it just like that, the last light flickering as you come as close to happy as you can be. I'll make you laugh until you're dumb and dizzy and maybe then you'll love me. And maybe you would have to be dumb to love me. But I'll still kiss your nose every night in my dreams and pretend I mean anything to you like you do me.
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1
Dreaming of you keeps me awake. And I find myself here in the same place everyday, trying to write out the way my heart skips a beat every time you even look at me but I know it's never gonna be anything other than what it is right now, me drinking ***** until I can't see your face burned into the back of my eyelids and pass out every other weekend. And maybe I'm fine with it. Maybe the way your smile makes me forget everything I've ever known about myself, and love, and breathing is enough. But it's in the way my hands shake when I even think of you looking at someone else the way I do you that I know I can't do this forever. And maybe I'll drink that away too.
0
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
Smirnoff and Sleeping Don't Mix Like You'd Think
we're so close, but you seem worlds away. like the moon and the sun so different yet the same. you shine so brightly i wish i could be like you. big, bold, and brash you look so nice with that pretty blue. you are everything i am and more so, go glimmer in all your glory! it's both jealousy and envy really you're everything i could be. it all started off with my one-sided rivalry now it's just my one-sided love story.
0
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 6:12 PM UTC
One-sided
I chase after you as I drift off, waking up with my hand reaching towards empty space. The only heaven worth wanting is your smile and I see your face in my dreams every night like it's all a beautiful broken record. It's skipping on the part where you say you love me back. And if fate means being asleep forever, I'll close my eyes and stay right where I am, waiting for you.
0
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:42 PM UTC
Be Still
Never should I love, For never will you love me. Never will your deep, blue eyes Look in mine and read my mind, Like a psychic running her fingers along the lines of my palms. Palms that belong to hands you’ll never hold, And handle with care like you would antique china And at the same time grip with a firmness that tells me you’ll never let go. You’ll never let go because you’ll never wrap your soft, warm arms around me in the first place. Your soul will never entangle with mine and fill that void Left by a **** sliced deep within me. A **** left by my father’s youth, And my mother’s faith, Whose knife cut out their acceptance for me And gouged out my trust in them. Can’t you see that you are the antidote to my lifelong suffering? The Accutane to my welted face, The braces to my crooked teeth, The nitro to my aching heart The rhino to my bulging nose The morphine to my broken mind, The running to my fading health Running, running, running away Far away from this broken house Where your dreams never do come true and Where you come out to yourself alone in the bathroom and Where they can’t ever know the truth because my house is Where God resides in the attic and Where Jesus is the only one you should let in your room at night and Where The Holy Spirit has possessed us all to live a lie because my house is Where lifelong love is dead at the delivery room And who is there to blame but me? Who is there to blame but me? But none of that matters to you. It can’t matter to you, Because all you do is love And love And love And love And love. But you never love me. Each year I have known you I have reached out farther than the last, Yearning for something I could never obtain. Fifteen pushes past Fourteen, Both of whom fall short of Sixteen’s growing arms, Which are narrowly outpaced by Seventeen’s spindly, wirey fingertips. Every Year’s efforts have met the same fate; Failing to reach their target they instead grasp fruitlessly Into a dark, brewing storm, Full of tears, And of crackling sparks of hope That are met with the resounding booms of fate Telling me that I am doomed to be alone. Telling me that never should I love, For never will you love me. But I never listen. Because I know you too well. And I know that someday, Someday soon, You’ll make the happy accident Of stepping too close to my many straining hands, And I’ll pull you near to me And you’ll realize that you never loved her at all. And that you always, always have loved me. -The Boy Who Loves You Too
0
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 10:42 PM UTC
To the Boy Who Won't Love Me:
Never should I love, For never will you love me. Never will your deep, blue eyes Look in mine and read my mind, Like a psychic running her fingers along the lines of my palms. Palms that belong to hands you’ll never hold, And handle with care like you would antique china And at the same time grip with a firmness that tells me you’ll never let go. You’ll never let go because you’ll never wrap your soft, warm arms around me in the first place. Your soul will never entangle with mine and fill that void Left by a **** sliced deep within me. A **** left by my father’s youth, And my mother’s faith, Whose knife cut out their acceptance for me And gouged out my trust in them. Can’t you see that you are the antidote to my lifelong suffering? The Accutane to my welted face, The braces to my crooked teeth, The nitro to my aching heart The rhino to my bulging nose The morphine to my broken mind, The running to my fading health Running, running, running away Far away from this broken house Where your dreams never do come true and Where you come out to yourself alone in the bathroom and Where they can’t ever know the truth because my house is Where God resides in the attic and Where Jesus is the only one you should let in your room at night and Where The Holy Spirit has possessed us all to live a lie because my house is Where lifelong love is dead at the delivery room And who is there to blame but me? Who is there to blame but me? But none of that matters to you. It can’t matter to you, Because all you do is love And love And love And love And love. But you never love me. Each year I have known you I have reached out farther than the last, Yearning for something I could never obtain. Fifteen pushes past Fourteen, Both of whom fall short of Sixteen’s growing arms, Which are narrowly outpaced by Seventeen’s spindly, wirey fingertips. Every Year’s efforts have met the same fate; Failing to reach their target they instead grasp fruitlessly Into a dark, brewing storm, Full of tears, And of crackling sparks of hope That are met with the resounding booms of fate Telling me that I am doomed to be alone. Telling me that never should I love, For never will you love me. But I never listen. Because I know you too well. And I know that someday, Someday soon, You’ll make the happy accident Of stepping too close to my many straining hands, And I’ll pull you near to me And you’ll realize that you never loved her at all. And that you always, always have loved me. -The Boy Who Loves You Too
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68
Aah! it was you  who did not discover: Still love for you I have  like a lover. I kept on peering you  like i always peered And continued to do so till u disappeared. But you did not turn around to see me Just like the one who leaves And i kept on believing , that you'll see, Like the one who believes
0
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 4:21 AM UTC
STILL LOVE FOR YOU, I HAVE LIKE A LOVER
i am secretly in love with you but i do not want to say to you I feel it silly to say to you. that i loved you always, and do still if not love, it is what  near to love but this does not let me say to you cause i feel i do not behove you
0
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
SECRETLY IN LOVE WITH YOU
HELPLESS AGAINST MY HEART I AM SO MUCH BABY THAT MY PEN HAS BEGUN TO START WRITING WHAT IS  IN MY HEART "I LOVED YOU ALWAYS;LOVE YOU YET I LOVE U ONLY;WILL YOU FORGET? I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER EVEN IF U DON'T HOWEVER."
0
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
I LOVE YOU,WITHOUT YOU
If you remember how it felt to dream of her at night, then you remember me - The love you lost and couldn't keep. The first time you looked into her eyes and realized you were happy; to the girl you thought you would marry. Do you remember how it felt to have her near, not yours to touch Do you remember feeling everything so much? Because first love is always an only. If you remember how it felt to cry at night, then you remember me. You thought nothing could ever hurt you that deeply. Your heart so brave and clumsy, so sorry for itself. You belonged to someone else. And yet look back and remember, that girl made you less scared. You took risks and you learned, and you grew, and it hurt; it was the first - the love you lost and couldn't forget. The girl who went and changed everything, the light of your world, the love that made you believe in heaven, 'cause she was an angel on earth Though in the end she saw you as nothing more than a friend, you loved once, and you will love again.
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
an ode to your first love
I remember it like it was yesterday. We were driving a little too fast, and the destination didn't matter. I was just watching you, Singing the song on the radio, Reciting every line perfectly, (me chiming in where I could), The smile on your face filled my heart with nostalgia. Because in that moment, You weren't the guy that you grew up to be, You were the boy I fell in love with years ago. I go to that moment whenever I miss you. Whenever my heart goes numb, Or worse, When I can feel every ounce of pain from you not being there. In that moment, I was safe. In that moment, I knew, the definition of never-ending. I knew, that I would forever be stuck, In that seat, In that car, In that moment, Watching you.
0
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
In That Moment
Should I say it Or should I keep my mouth shut? Are you thinking of me The way I do about you? Should I give you my heart Or is it too much? Am I moving too fast? Are you even keeping up? I like you But I cannot Get myself to say it I think about you Before I sleep And after I wake up I long to show You my affection But afraid you'll run I have fallen for you But are the two of us On the same side?
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
My Side
She'd swooshed by on her skates. He'd seen her in her reflection that day On his car’s rear view mirror, For the first time ever. The new neighbour, was she? That very night, for the first time ever, Both happened to be on their respective rooftops. The clock had just scaled eleven. Now that they’d seen each other, Tonight's coincidence sufficed to make way For a rendezvous every night, thereafter. He’d often be smiling his sheepish smile, Panting for breath as he’d reach the terrace While the clock would strike eleven, A few heartbeats later. Oh, but she would often already be there, A teasing laughter on her lips, A childlike smile in her eyes. Relief followed by exultation in his heart. And so, they’d be standing a lane's length apart, United under the zoetic starry sky, every night hence. You’d wonder, how both were somehow convinced, That the other still believed This nightly tryst Under the sky's roof to be a coincidence. She'd light cigarette after another. He'd pretend To be caressing his pet, Fast asleep. Or some such silly thing. How he’d wish the whiff of smoke from her cigarette Would drift across to his terrace. He’d imagine the wafting smoke That’d emanate as she’d part her lips To be a peek into her coy desires. And many such cheesy things. They hadn't exchanged a word till date. Oh but they'd exchanged hearts that very first night. She didn't even know his name yet She'd wonder if he knew hers’? 'Has it ever mattered?' she'd think. 'I'm better off not knowing her name!' Thinking a name could define her Is to be silly', he’d think. She was at his door one evening, To hand over a letter, Mistakenly delivered at her home. Or so she said. Something he'd happily believed. She'd slipped her heart along with the letter, She later happily realized. The ensuing night lingered Six and a half cigarettes longer, The first time ever. Fifteen evenings gone by since She wouldn’t be seen. He stayed for a brief bit on the sixteenth night. Disappointed less, worried more. Did she feel this silent encounter Of their worlds had stayed silent too long? Words could never suffice, didn't she know? He went down to his room ruefully. Oh but she’d reached just the terrace at that instant. And they thought coincidences could only always favor them. A few evenings later he saw her. Not veiled by the sepia-tinted street lights this time. Nor in the crimson blush of that evening. Decked in bridal finery The vermilion vows on her forehead Staring starkly at him like an exclamation mark. And you thought coincidences could only always favor us, Seemed to be the rhetoric she was throwing at him. That night, his tattered heart Writhed in dead wakefulness on the rooftop. Even now, he looks across At her absence, a presence in itself.
0
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Across the Sky's Roof
She'd swooshed by on her skates. He'd seen her in her reflection that day On his car’s rear view mirror, For the first time ever. The new neighbour, was she? That very night, for the first time ever, Both happened to be on their respective rooftops. The clock had just scaled eleven. Now that they’d seen each other, Tonight's coincidence sufficed to make way For a rendezvous every night, thereafter. He’d often be smiling his sheepish smile, Panting for breath as he’d reach the terrace While the clock would strike eleven, A few heartbeats later. Oh, but she would often already be there, A teasing laughter on her lips, A childlike smile in her eyes. Relief followed by exultation in his heart. And so, they’d be standing a lane's length apart, United under the zoetic starry sky, every night hence. You’d wonder, how both were somehow convinced, That the other still believed This nightly tryst Under the sky's roof to be a coincidence. She'd light cigarette after another. He'd pretend To be caressing his pet, Fast asleep. Or some such silly thing. How he’d wish the whiff of smoke from her cigarette Would drift across to his terrace. He’d imagine the wafting smoke That’d emanate as she’d part her lips To be a peek into her coy desires. And many such cheesy things. They hadn't exchanged a word till date. Oh but they'd exchanged hearts that very first night. She didn't even know his name yet She'd wonder if he knew hers’? 'Has it ever mattered?' she'd think. 'I'm better off not knowing her name!' Thinking a name could define her Is to be silly', he’d think. She was at his door one evening, To hand over a letter, Mistakenly delivered at her home. Or so she said. Something he'd happily believed. She'd slipped her heart along with the letter, She later happily realized. The ensuing night lingered Six and a half cigarettes longer, The first time ever. Fifteen evenings gone by since She wouldn’t be seen. He stayed for a brief bit on the sixteenth night. Disappointed less, worried more. Did she feel this silent encounter Of their worlds had stayed silent too long? Words could never suffice, didn't she know? He went down to his room ruefully. Oh but she’d reached just the terrace at that instant. And they thought coincidences could only always favor them. A few evenings later he saw her. Not veiled by the sepia-tinted street lights this time. Nor in the crimson blush of that evening. Decked in bridal finery The vermilion vows on her forehead Staring starkly at him like an exclamation mark. And you thought coincidences could only always favor us, Seemed to be the rhetoric she was throwing at him. That night, his tattered heart Writhed in dead wakefulness on the rooftop. Even now, he looks across At her absence, a presence in itself.
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75
it is hell to have loved someone- to know you love them right now, still- so much and for so long, and to realize you don't actually feel them loving you back. if you turn onto a one-way street in the wrong direction, it is still dangerous, against the law even if you didn't see the sign. and just because i love and my love is accepted does not mean i'm on a two-way street. now i'm crushed. between metal and metal i'm crushed. in flashes, when you speak, i see myself chewed between your teeth. so when you light up when you smile when i say in some way that i love you, you are also the oncoming headlights, appearing suddenly, coming at me on the highway.
0
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
it is hell
the feelings of hurting i've been having since you told me the way you work are not the worst that i've felt all my life. it bothers me that you've gone, and it bothers me that i'm only bothered, not dying. i loved you in a way i've never loved another soul. i loved you to your core. i loved you as a being in a faulty body. i loved your past life's symptoms... still do. i feel overly sensitive to the sun - just by rays and not by warmth. i can soak in the warmth, i can feel reborn if i keep my eyes closed. i can see the blood red, begin again. i open my eyes and i'm all blood red and even my breath hurts my skin. you told me you were akin to disease, like your own, but toward me, and i should have made it more clear how well i would handle the word "terminal" if it was you who directed it at me. to be honest i would love nothing more than being restricted to bedrest, afflicted with you. you have every permission to eat at my brain like a poison. burn my heart with equal parts fire and acid. i'm asking you for it. i'm asking for you. i'm calling for you and you hear me. we see each other, stare. you don't answer. you wanted to clean me up, dust the dirt of you off me, wipe the mud from my eyes that you think surely must be keeping me from seeing clearly. but there is no mud, just my own dark circles. i am clean though i stand in the deepest hole i've ever dug. still you scrub. my skin goes numb.
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
the feelings of hurting i've been
he is not quiet inside, or beside himself in awe. he's just been a middle-ground or a stopping point on my way out of my mind. but he keeps appearing while i'm steering down searing black-heart tar at a speed too fast. and yet he remains an ember only ever having grown into wet timber - a spark, but no hint of a flame. and maybe he does smell just like smoke- but it's still not the same as you. and that's why i just miss you instead of letting him call me "honey".
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
he is not