I keep trying to write letters
but they never turn out right

you taught me that home was never truly a place

it is blue eyes that I could get lost in for hours
pushing and pulling like the tides of the sea

it is strong hands that built things up but also
tore them down
and still managed to leave goosebumps down my spine

it is whispered 'I love you's that sound like a rainy august night
hushing me to sleep

it is long cold winter nights wrapped in your arms
listening to our heartbeats synchronized

it is the thought of our apartment

it is the holidays we spent together

it is the way you used to look at me

it is the promises we meant to keep

I am still in love with you. You are still my home. This hurts a lot less then I expected, but the pain is
constant and shoots down my veins. I am addicted to you. I feel alive with you.

I told you from the first time we kissed by the library that we would end up this way.

every second I was with you, I knew I would end up trying to write you heartbroken letters that would
never end up sounding right.

cover me in your bloodstained bed sheets
that still smell like cigarettes and ***
from the night she left
mid-august

press your ears against my chest
listen to my heartbeat
write a song to the rhythm of what keeps me grounded,
but all of the lyrics are about her

title it her name

we always talk about the ocean
and how listening to the tidal waves
can bring peace
to a restless mind

but we never talked about
the strength of waves
and how they can ware down
grounded rock
to
helpless grains of sand.

today, my English teacher explained that poetry is a way to express
internal feelings
externally

and the sadness I felt in my mind in my heart
could be spilled by accident
sloppily on paper
and still seen as a beautiful work of art

but the happiness you make me feel,
my mind cannot fathom words
to script carefully in ink
what you make me feel

these butterflies can't escape from my stomach and land on paper

the thought of loosing you
cannot rip my skin apart
to claw out of my body
and tear my words to shreds

please
don't turn whatever we have
into something I can write about

"are you okay?"
this is a question in which I've answered with a variety of letters carelessly formed into words laced into scentances

and I've been telling myself and others that "yes, I'm okay" or "I'm fine" or "just tired" and I've been saying it over and over again in my mind because maybe if my mind screams "YOU'RE FINE" my heart will hear and believe it

but when "I love you" turns to "*******" or "you're not good enough" or no resoponse at all

it's certainly not okay
and I am certainly not okay
but maybe if I keep telling myself that I am, I will be
maybe