Don’t you dare look at her like that

With those ocean eyes overflowing with love, with hope.
Don't let your lips curl up into that half smile 

Like you have three words you’d like to sputter out

But you can’t.

Don’t fall through the windows to her soul

Her’s are brown and bitter

Mine, blue and blissful 

Don’t let her beauty and the butterflies fool you

Because once you look at someone that way

There’s no going back

So don’t you dare look at her 

The way you’ve always looked at me

I am not carrying the plague.

I am carrying the key to the future of music.
It slowly opens many doors.
The voices will crumble, should I lose it.

I am carrying a bulletproof shield.
Defending shots fired from sometimes the enemy,
But mostly from my own army.

I am carrying a pair of shoes.
With me, they have walked through the storms
And danced in the rays.

I am carrying a little light.
Although somedays it doesn't shine,
I call it Hope.

In my life, I am carrying many things.
Yet I am grateful,
For I am not carrying the plague.

You stood there alone
Broken heart clutched in your hand
Everything you knew shattered on the floor before you
You scanned the room
You looked at me helplessly
Now what?

So I took your hand and off we went.
That was the summer that I learned you.
Your heart,
Your mind,
And their constant battles.
But little by little,
Your broken pieces slid back together.
And I had never been so reckless,
As to cut myself on them as they did.
You were a part of me now.

I blame it on the music.
The way we fell in love,
It was to the beat of our own drum.
It was the way you looked at me
When our part of the song played.
Or how we danced in our classroom kingdom.
And kissed all of our own rules goodbye
As we naively and boldly,
Kissed the familiar passion
Hello.

Then I blinked
And I could've sworn that you'd be here when I opened my eyes
But life doesn't work like that
Time doesn't work like that.
And now you're gone.
Broken heart clutched in my hand
And I'm standing here alone
Everything I knew is shattered on the floor before me
Now what?

this is an angry poem
and like you've always wanted
this is about you.

this poem is every conversation we never had.
it's every time i stood backstage in my little black dress and prayed to God that we would make it through one more show.
its the day i watched movies with your mom and sister because you had better things on your to-do list than me.
or how when you fell asleep in my car
i drove you around our city for hours until practice started
because i know that even superman needs a break.
but really
this poem is about how you never would have done these things for me.

and another thing:
prom night.
and how i will never un-resent you
for letting me cry in the bathroom
until your ex girlfriend came in
and put her hand on my shoulder
and told me she knows how i feel.
as if she knew exactly where we stood
in that moment
so i thanked her
because i sure as hell didn't.

i spend a lot of time thinking about us now.
and how in thirty three days, 489 will be the number that defines us.
and i don't know how i can be angry with you for going to college
(for not taking me with you)
but i supposed in a year i will be where you are now and i'll do my best to understand
how you've always been one step ahead of me.

i realize that you're not going to change.
you will always be so deeply engrossed and infatuated in your reputation that you will never ponder the idea that you might not always be right.
and let me just tell you,
nothing bothers me more than the fact that if you were reading this right now all you would point out is my improper use of the second person.
and i would have to agree.

and this is why i'm sitting here right now racking my mind trying to find things to be angry with you about.
because i know a battle with you is a war i'll never win
so why fight.
and how all i've been saying to myself since you walked across that stupid stage is
"we've done a good thing here."
because i choose to believe that every time i put on that little black dress and helped you roll the lint off your black shirt, it was worth something.
and every time you looked at me from across the **** choir room and i knew you were just as in this as i was, it meant something.
and every time we pushed our own hearts out of the way to lead this army together, it was for something.
it was.
and yes, i understand that this is all up to me now and that's okay.
just promise me one thing.
you won't destroy any more hearts while trying to save the music.

and by the way.
thanks for forgiving me for all the things i didn't do.
this is my first angry poem about you,
and my last.
because you have a new town to save,
and i have a little black dress to put on.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.
So I gave it a week
Then two
Then a month.
And I waited for you to grow.
I thought you would blossom
Not wilt.
So here I am
Sitting shotgun in your jeep
Just like I did when we were saving the world
When we had something to work for, something to hold us in place.
But all I can feel is the distance.
It's not quite 500 miles yet
But it's not 14 inches anymore either.
And all I can smell is her perfume.
Floral.
Like she was intertwining herself in you.
So maybe it wasn't that you weren't growing.
You were.
But You were growing towards her
And that meant growing away from me.

Hey you.

Yes you. Fourteen year old blonde girl with her eyes on the floor and the world in her hand.

Why are you looking around an empty room waiting for something beautiful to happen?

Don’t you know how brilliant you are?

You don’t have the perspective to know that one day you will rule the world.

You will fall in love again, and he still won’t love you back. Not the way you wanted him to.

You will glue yourself back together so many times that you’ll forget what it feels like to not have cracks in you.

You’ll be lonely more often than you’ll be in good company.

Music will begin to feel like oxygen instead of a vapid hobby.

Thicken your skin kiddo, but never be afraid to sob when Fields of Gold plays on the radio.

Look around the room every chance you get and listen to the sound a family makes.

Don’t let him take away the one thing you’ve ever been good at.

Go ahead. Curl up into your little corner of the world and cry for a bit. Nobody said it would be easy.

But stop for a second.

Stop running around like the world is ending.

Look in the mirror.

Really look.

Memorize the mascara tracks down your cheeks and the look in your eyes that says “There must be something better than this.”

Keep it in your back pocket when you’re out ruling the world.

So that one day, when a fourteen year old blonde girl with the world in the palm of her hand comes to you with tears in her big eyes.

You can say,

“Baby, don’t you know how brilliant you are?

Take a look around the room, and make something beautiful happen.”

That's what pain truly feels like,
A constant roaming in the shadows of the night

You have a face full of beauty,
Sadly a mouth full of lies

Forked tongue spitting venom like a snake's duty,
But oh how I still miss you when I look at the sky

I remember the good times we had like if it were yesterday,
But I never saw this coming, never thought I'd have to say goodbye

What more is there even left to say,
But just let out a relinquishing sigh

Although my heart aches at the thought of being apart from you,
I will walk away, for you have opened my eyes

The harsh reality that I was a speed bump,
On your journey to find the one

I thought there was love between us,
But I should've known that before it even started we were already done.

I thought I was doing what's best for her...
But I'm also doing what's worse for me.

I didn't know that a girl could trigger all these feelings.

Yes, I want her to be happy -
I just thought it would be with me.