to be honest
if we stopped talking today
it wouldn’t be the talking i’d miss
although the conversations left me
hopeful
smiling
curious
it’s the moments of not talking
the kisses
the lack of air
the desire for more
that I find myself consumed with

I don’t know whether to be
thankful that it happened
or frustrated with the lack of assurance
that it will happen again (and again)
because now I’ve had a taste
of you
of your hands on my hands,
my back, my neck, my hair
feeling
wanting
holding
I find myself wishing
we could **** time together
by not talking some more

backs tell a lot of stories
and I think that's why they’re my favourite feature
they’ve witnessed the aftermath of walking away

felt shoulder kisses,
when someone’s hand rests gently in the middle
absentmindedly or purposefully

felt tickles and hands on a mission
kneading and massaging
felt embraces and weathered storms

they are quietly powerful - worthy of endless praise
but expectant of none
and that is something, isn't it

Here’s the thing:
I am okay because I’ve learned how to distort the pieces of us, the pieces of our story
I forcibly separate the past from our current reality
The you I know now isn’t the you I used to know
The feelings I felt for you, the words you spoke that filled me with an irreplaceable notion of happiness, are all distant memories
They have no place in our present

Even though I see you now, even when we’re sharing the same space, same bed, same air
I miss you
Because the you that I fell deeply in love with
On a bench alongside the garden of roses beside the lake
Alone on a balcony in Paris
By your side on the dock, underneath the blanket of stars that allowed us to fool ourselves, fall for the facade that we were possible
Isn’t the person you are to me now

You are unreachably distant
I think you’re choosing to be different
To help me, to make it easier on you, who knows
You won’t let me in, and I don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid of what that will mean for you, or what that will mean for me
Perhaps it’s a little bit of both

You could be simply a victim of your own immensely busy life, choosing to rarely classify me as a priority
Or maybe you’ve decided that we’ve been reckless, careless, stupid, one too many times

But I don’t know how to be anything aside from that
One word from you, one glance my way
And I realize that denying that, denying you, would be turning down an irrepressible part of myself
A part of me I will never be able to ignore -
because it’s the part that will always belong to you

if we are ever side by side again
within the same space
i hope you are unable to refrain

i hope your hands go to hell

because if they do,
i promise you mine will follow suit

and we'll embrace the flames together

He smiles and his chocolate eyes do too
He has dimples and a grin that promises the best bad things
He makes me want to live outside the lines
Create a mess, albeit a beautiful one, that refuses to disappear with ease

sometimes people sneak up on you
I always thought the best loves were immediate,
you’d know instantly,
because that happened once,
and it’s hard not to compare,

until you realize that he’s been there all along,
and you think,
“Oh. There you are.”

and you can’t breathe just right,
or think coherent thoughts,
except ones about him and him and you

my insides feel like an angry butterfly storm
I am hopeless yet I’m the happiest I’ve been in months
how can that be?
how does none of this make any sense but be so clear?

I can’t look him in the eye
I feel like I’m in middle school again
14, but without the excessive insecurities
my heart feels like its going to burst

it kinda makes me want to kick myself
for taking so long to realize
what you could mean to me
what you mean to be now

you can **** your own ****
because, despite what your big head may think
I am not available at your beck and call
perhaps this is what I signed up for
but perhaps not

I do not belong to you
so just because I respond doesn't mean it's not a choice
it doesn't mean I'm not choosing others
at the same time I'm choosing you
and it never means I'm not choosing myself, over everything

I think I am okay
And then I catch a wisp of a memory
And the thought of you floors me
My chest aches
And I am gasping
Trying to breathe again
Because the thought of
A world without you
Is unbearable
Unthinkable
At best

I think I am over you
And then I see you
And my heart takes off
Fluttering and flying
At one billion beats per minute
Towards you
Yearning to be close to you
To be closer to what felt like home

Is this what relapsing
Feels like?

feelings take up a lot of space
and energy
and time

how can people casually
fall in and out of commitment
without a second thought?

sometimes things end
and that’s okay, because it is life
but just because something isn’t anymore, doesn’t take away from what it once was
because even though now we are close to strangers in passing, occasionally acquaintances
doesn’t make the love we once had any less important

like when we were younger and impossibly perfect in the moment where Anna Sun blared and you smiled and I echoed it, where we were pieces of sunshine that fed off the dying rays outside that tickled our cheeks, along with the wind that blew in through the open window as we turned the corner, coming inevitably closer and closer to what we knew in our bones would be our untimely end

the point is: i love you, and perhaps you once loved me
we had our moments
and they were wonderful
they’ll always have a place in my heart

i hope yours has room for them too.

what they don’t tell you
is that the devil writes letters
and compliments your soul before your body

It’s hard for it not to feel personal,
because it is.

When someone leaves you,
regardless of the **** they’ve got going on
and who they are as a person,

if they drop you or leave you,
remove you from their life,
it is personal.

How can it not be?

when people ask me
how i am
why do i think of you?

how the ****
am i supposed to move on
to accept someone else’s hands on my body
another pair of lips on mine
when it is your hands and lips i crave

i need answers
because there is a guy
who is perfect in every aspect
aside from the glaring reality
that he isn’t you

you said you wrote poems;
do you write them about
playing games
with girls like me?

you’re still there

as much as i try and pretend
that i’ve moved on
or deserve better
or whatever lie i feed myself that day

it is still your face
that is my version of a dream
you’re so deeply woven into my being
i cannot take you out

how can i move on
when we never ended
i need closure
but i don’t want it

i’d choose you in every lifetime

how do you say to someone,

I have a fat middle school crush on you. And I also want to kiss your face.

I am in the market
for making mistakes
and you check all the boxes

I will never be able to be friends
With my ex-lover

Because I can't make small talk
Without reminiscing about how it felt
When he had pushed me up against the wall
When we accidentally consumed each other in flames
Fatally burning each other in the process
Paving the way for our untimely ending

It will always feel too raw
It will always be too soon

You made the word love
taste bitter in my mouth

If I used the word hate,
I'd say that I hated you for that

what I had to realize
in order to move on,
transition you into past
instead of present,
was that you were
far less significant than air