i dream of us,
me,
and you.

i’m a poet (?), and i have a voice,
and sometimes i think you want that voice
-ridiculous, because your voice is captivating, alluring, angelic.

but it could be true,
and it could be true you like my voice?
i dream.

and i imagine us wearing jackets,
looking beautiful and confident,
arms wrapped around us and forehead kisses.

girls at football games, girls at dances,
twirling you around,
burying my face in your neck and inhaling.

we could be beautiful.
we could be teen love, and teen heartbreak,
teen queens. teen goddesses.

and every night, i could want you,
but only if you wanted me back,
strong like me.

and we could be a secret,
hiding behind friendship,
and friends who love kisses and holding hands.

swetheart, i could call you that, right?
sweetheart, we can be whatever you want us to be,
and i’d be so lucky to be your friend.

but see those girls
-those could be us,
if you just told me.

you could kiss my neck,
whisper or confess,
or surge forward. i’d welcome you.

please,
please,
tell me.

whoever you are.

you, your letters are infinitely more beautiful.
everything about you was -the bite in your words,
the beauty.

you, unassuming.
your tops, looking unintentional,
but all carefully picked.

i fell in love when i saw you’re writing,
because your words told me writing was beautiful.
magical, musical, unassuming.

but you’re also a total *****,
a girl who gets all the love
and leaves you feeling rotten.

what kind of girl, what kind of beauty
targets a younger, admiring, girl,
making her feel *****?

cruel. of course, my friends know it.
i, i scramble in shock,
to deny it. you know.

and i hate you now,
somehow your writing doesn’t seem like it did,
beautiful. but it still is the best i’ve seen.

i think back to you,
wonder if my writing is just as pretty,
as the girl who was my first muse.

summer nights are best spent with you.
greedily scarfing down ice cream,
watching our feet touch the sky from old playground swings.

and the ones in your mom’s car
-the soft music, the hard music
singing to melodies that we’ll never know.

each night, we feel each’s wishes.
i, i want to give you fairs, and cotton candy,
and hold your hand as we walk along the sidewalk.

i want to twirl you around,
because though we’re very summer friends
i want to keep you forever.

our feet scrape the gravel,
toes tap the sidewalk,
noses breathe in the air.

distinctly, i remember something
-us in a concert,
our shoulders brushing as we danced.

i remember laughing with you in the water,
because i hated being short,
so naturally i had to climb you.

i remember every year
we laugh away these nights,
until they become memories.

they, were, definitely,
polaroid worthy.
you’d give a blank look.

and then spring would come again,
and we’d be sitting in your mom’s car,
watching the sunset again.

remember this?

write something beautiful,
they ask, beg,
threaten.

but i feel so utterly,
so utterly,
uninspired.

the ink is running off,
and dripping to the floor.

beautiful women live in my head,
beautiful melodies play through it.
yet nothing beautiful comes to mind.

tired eyes stare back at me
-because this beautiful summer life is dying.

there is so much to do now,
and i can’t seek out inspiration.
i’d have to hunt it.

i’d have to save this part of myself,
immortalize it in the fabric of my clothes.

i’d remember it in class,
starring out the window.

i’d remember it in winter,
wrapped in a sweater’s embrace.

and then it would die in the spring,
the most beautiful season, so they say.

i
hate
it.

but i think for now i’ll immortalize this moment,
with the hate and fears,
with the threats and the fame.

because i’ve written something ugly.
this is my reminder.

my treasure map on your skin
-soft stars and dots,
i connect them with my fingers,
and they become constellations.

and your voice, my fingers,
playing a soft melody,
as i drown in you.

a thousand dancers -we watch them,
and i ask them to dance for you,
they swirl and laugh and then
they disappear.

i wait for the music to start before i say my words,
because then, only then,
maybe then they’ll be worth it.

if only i could convince you to stay,
because you make me feel lonely
-suddenly i can hear the soft moan of the sea,
see the waves dance to it’s voice.

and now i ache,
because as time passes,
your song grows weak.

your voice and my song, it’s being swallowed
among all those other ones,
more beautiful than my call to you.

and now that you’re gone, i hear them
those drums of the sea,
the angry clashes that make the storm that brought me to you.

and now i hear it, the sorrowful moans,
beneath the soft songs that all those lovers sang,
that day we fell in love.

hey moon,
you look like my girl.

but you fell, even when a soft not-so-country singer begged,
begged you to stay in the sky.

the only falling i’ll ever do,
it’s for you.

i fell for you,
as fast as a stone,
a jewel thrown into the sea.

glittering along those most beautiful things in the world.

i fell for you,
like rain from the north.

relaxed, slow,
then all at once.

northern downpour sends love,
i’d sing sardonically.

but with love?