last summer
I met a boy of 6 feet tall
he is two years older than me
he listens to punk rock
has an alcoholic father,
and his kisses
are sweeter than honey
and softer than silk

we spent countless, long, dreamy
cold, rainy, humid
nights
in my backyard
with the smell of too much hairspray
which I can not bring myself to smell again
and mosquito spray which I never apply anymore
11pm
4am
the hours passed by like minutes, seconds

under the stars
telling secrets
I was scared
scared of losing him
even though he was already lost

fading
disapearing
slowly and then all at once

hallways
silence
stares
me alone
him and her

11pm
4am
hours seem like eternitys, milleniums
crying
flashbacks
thinking about the us that will never be
blood spills on the paper
spelling out your words, promises
do I even cross his mind
maybe  probably not  no

I'm sorry I wasn't
skinny
pretty
funny
admirable
good
enough

I'm sorry

we didn't even say goodbye

goodbye, Brandan

Grief always finds a way to hit you the hardest when you least expect it.

It's been over a year and a half, and I can push by and smile even on days when my thoughts resort back to you when I'm alone in my car at 7:30 on a winding country road.

but unexpectedly, scrolling through Facebook, stumbling upon a picture your mom posted

you, sitting out to dinner with your siblings, big smile, eyes twinkling (how could someone so full of life decide to end it all)

can send me into a spiral

now sitting at my kitchen island, turning into a blubbering mess, trying to console myself

telling myself that you're watching down on me telling me that you don't like seeing me so upset.

love looks different now
it is overgrown
and tiny goodbye kisses enough to save a singular feeling of necessity but lacking the passion I crave so badly

this isn’t what I had imagined
going to bed alone each night
and waking up to goodbyes.

will it be like this forever?
making silly plans for our silly life together
never quite feeling like we’re doing enough

never quite feeling like I’m enough

and feeling guilty because I’ll never get quite enough

there’s not enough intimacy or romantic gestures or cuddles in the gloomy hours to fill me up

my glass is never overflowing
it’s always half empty or shattered on the floor.

I hate the type of goodbyes
where nothing is said
just things are forgotten

like the smell of my perfume dabbed slightly on my collarbone
applied softly, wishing you would notice

or how you ran your fingers down my neck
giving me goosebumps every time I inhaled the sweet aroma of rain lingering outside

and now
the beautiful words that flowed dangerously fast out of our mouths
are no longer spoken

you gracefully faded from my life

like how foggy breath fades in the winter

if love were a color
it would be crimson
crimson like your illuminated cheeks whenever I say your name

love is like a lion cub
deceivingly cute and playful
but in it's depths, deadly

love is a cigarette, lit by a simple flame for enjoyment and pleasure
but slowly releasing toxins into you

if you could touch love,
it would be as rough as a kittens tongue brushing on soft skin

love smells like a newly blossomed rose
that's sweet scent will eventually deteriorate and drift away with the storms

if love were a sound
it would be the prayers that hospital walls consume

if love could speak, it would say:

" caution: falling into me is dangerously easy, while trying to fall out is incredibly hard "

lovely lost lies

love

"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

I'm unsure about a lot in life
like why distance has to be so distant
or why people meet for certain reasons and why they leave as well
why we can't erase horrible memories but manage to forget some along the way
or who's voice is in my head
flowing endless thoughts into my infinite mind
why innocent people die
why horrible people love
and people pass you by each day
"forgetting" your first name
and what the future has in store for me
is it all that great?
even if I try to change it,
shouldn't it be left to fate?

but there is one thing
I know for sure and I can't even fathom denying it

I'm in love with you so much that these questions all seem to get lost or forgotten because I can't possibly worry about the stupid unanswerable questions of life when the only thing that's on my mind is
you.

please stay
wrapped in my mind like I knot I cannot untangle

please stay
soft and sweet, running your fingertips down my naked back, making the sounds of the waves with your lips

please stay
close enough, always just within reach for me to fall on when my legs get weak

please stay
connected in my life, through the coincidences and mishaps somehow leading me back to you

please stay

please

stay

don’t

leave

me

please

please.

in the summer there was moon lit love hitting fast like lightning and disappeared like the morning dew

in the fall there was gentle love but friendships startled which caused the leaves to fall and branches to break

in the winter there was snowy car rides listening to playlists and childish love but passionate enough to spark a flame and heat up the chill of the air

it's spring and so far I've had an infinite loving of zero

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.

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

the way we used to walk together
our feet would touch the ground at synchronized times
and your hand clasped against mine ever so tight
occasionally rubbing your thumb against the back of my hand

the words you used to say to me
that are stuck in my mind
are unforgettable
maybe as unforgettable as your baby blue eyes

the sound of heartbreak you left on my answering machine
when I finally wanted to stop it all
because of her, because of you, because of me
it made me break down and think about all of these things

all these things that meant so little at the time
but are now memories
stuck on repeat
in my mind

all these little things that you did
when you cared
and I cared
and we were in love

but there's nothing left of these little things
because we walked away from what made us happy
and we walked away from true love

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.

pins start to tingle the edges of my fingertips
whispering to me
advising me to give in
the urge is stronger than me
razors
pills
alcohol
drugs
***

all of these things i have learned to be dependent on in the past year

none of them have been my home

I had fallen in love with the one self destructive home I had

and he left

I’m faking it just to stay on top
of everything I’ve buried
longing
mistakes
regrets
sorrow
failure
heartbreak
****** desire

I can’t stay on top of it all like this
it slips out in waves
and when I try to let myself submerge in my emotions

I drown

and sink

deep

deep down


until that morning alarm clock rings.

Everyone asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I didn’t really have an answer. I’ve felt somewhat numb this week.

After the clock struck midnight, and it was my 24th year on this earth, it was made very clear to me what I want for my birthday.

I want things to go back to how they were,
dumb teenagers in love with each other, holding on maybe just a little too tight.

I want to lose track of time with you in your bed, listening to songs that seemed so relevant when pouring our hearts out to each other.

We ended things and moved on with our lives in very separate directions, but we always stayed connected. I think we were both secretly rooting for our reconnection, someday, when the timing was “right”.

And no matter how far apart we had grown, there was always unexpected reminders of you everywhere. We kept in touch. The depth of our love created this ongoing tension, always tethered.

I talked to your mom a few days ago, on the anniversary of your death. She’s one of the only people that I think truly understands the complexity of my pain.

I never got closure from any of this. The only thing I’m left with is the realization that I’ll never get a “happy birthday” from you ever again.

Maybe I’m selfish, but I think it’s okay to be selfish on your birthday. and my only wish is that you were still here. that you didn’t take your life. that somehow you’re still out there thinking about me when I’m thinking about you, like how it always was, but will never be again.

The only thing that I can do is listen to our songs, and talk to the moon. I would do anything for you to be able to listen.