i told you i loved
you i love you i loved you
but then i lost you

someone told me to get drunk and smash things
because that’s what life does to you and
its only polite to return the favour.

i bled that night. i watched your knife slice my skin,
but i didn’t scream. i didn’t deserve to.
did your blade like the way my vein brushed against it?

i drank. i drank and i drank and i drank.
absinthe makes you hallucinate but they’ve never been heartbroken.
the wallpaper is peeling. the windows are barred.

(i don’t want to know where i left the key)

i tossed my life out and i set it on fire
because someone told me to get drunk
and smash things.

i stopped writing. i kept writing. i stopped.
the saddest word in my vocabulary?
“i don’t want to write because then it’s over.”

i have become a collection of misconceptions and
not understandings with a mumble jumble of hoosits
and whatsits because i can’t end this poem.

i will love you until i have nothing to offer you.
your body is a church and i have come to confess,
i am years and years of potholes and cracks in the wall,
and you are the cement that stops the storm.

i will love you until i have nothing to say,
until drought comes, until snow stops.
until your fire burns out and i'm the only one
who knows how to ignite it again.

i will love you until i have lost everything.
it's easy to lose yourself in strangers and
beautiful sights but mark my words,
i have never seen a stranger more beautiful than you.

i.
I once knew a girl who wore jeans with ripped holes
not a cape, but scraped knees
she didn’t believe in smoke signals, instead
wrote in the margins of the paper but
each time I wanted to drown,
she taught me how to swim.

ii.
She slouched when she walked and
had mousy brown hair without
pearly white teeth or a figure 8 but
when she smiled, my God,
was she beautiful.

iii.
My mother always told me that when I grow up,
I could be whatever I wanted. When I told her
I wanted to be Wonderwoman, she laughed and said,
“someone is already Wonderwoman,” I didn’t know
that someone was you.

iv.
The next time someone pulls your hair or
calls you names, remember that there’s only one you
who knows how to save my world.

1.28am
My ears were too loud and I couldn’t hear you over the pounding of my heart but I tried, oh God did I try. The first thing I saw was your teeth and before I knew it, you were in my lap. You sang your name in my ear and seven months later, I still heard your voice. The night has just begun.

2.02am
It was a friend through a friend through a friend who told a friend about you who mentioned me to his friend and that was how we met. No introductions, no conclusions, no “hello my name is” because it was more like “can we just **** now?” and we did.

2.35am
I spent days lodged inside of you because that was home to me. I filled you up to the brim and I watched me inch out of you day by day. My bed had your imprint in it and home was no longer home unless you were there. Front to back. Eyes open. Eyes closed. Dark. Light. Old fashioned. We did it all.

3.00am
We built our relationship out of books, movies, biology, dead poets, coffee shops, shower ***, hot summer nights and cool June days. Catabolism is the process of breaking down molecules. Anabolism is the process of building up molecules. You catalyzed; I watched.

3.35am
This is what your mirror reflected.
June: Bright eyes, white teeth, laughter, wavy hair, sun-kissed skin, tank tops, flip flops, sleepy babbles, the desire to fall in love.
January: I’m trying my best to love you the way you want me to but I can’t anymore and I’ve let other people touch me and I can’t say no because I love you I really do but I can’t do this anymore you make me happy but so does everyone else and I’m sorry but I’m sorry but I’m sorry but I love you but

3.47am
I waited for 3 days but you never came home. So I burned it all and you yelled at me. A piece of me burned with the flames but you ignored it and then it became February.

5.47am**
The sun is rising now and I still hear the way you sang your name in my ear. It would have been 8 months soon and 8 months ago, we talked about forever. It will be March soon and when the flowers bloom, I won’t think of you anymore. I keep a response to a note that you never left me and I’ll read it when I miss nights with you. The night is over now.

Beyond the late night talks on the phone and hiding from your parents will be screaming of "no", "stop", "I know you want it". You'll grow out of the awkward and one day, your limbs will feel like home and your skin will become armor.

Will you go out with me? Those words won't mean as much as it'll be over soon, baby. Sneaking out to go to the park always ends in sneaking out in the morning. The walk of shame becomes routine and you'll forget the hip hugger jeans and the training bras.

Your first heartbreak won't be your last so don't worry--you won't marry the one with sweaty palms and stutter. When he takes you to the mall now, you won't hang out in arcades. You'll start to feel dead roses growing from each crevice of your body but don't cut them; nurture them so they'll grow into the reds I know you can be.

Find your home away from home because when Daddy tells you that you're too young to be in love, fight him and run home. Home is where you make it, whether it's in someone's arms or a corner of the universe where you and the alley cat know. Fall in love with your best friend. Kiss her, and don't feel bad about the lies they tell you in church. Love is love, not what Adam and Eve decided. If you like kissing her, keep doing it and tell her that when the sun sets, her eyes blend in with the rising night. Wish upon those stars so you'll remember those summers spent together. If you don't like kissing her, stop.

Kiss what you like. Kiss everything you touch. Because your kisses are diamonds and someone wants to find the treasure. Fall in love over and over until your t-shirts hug your curves and your jeans are the shade of blue that matches your eyes.

remember the time when i tried to glue my hand to yours and
claimed that glue would be the reason we'd stay together?
you didn't stop holding my hand that day.

i walked 20 steps from your side of the bed into the bathroom,
the towel smells a little bit like you and you promised
it would stay there for another 20 years.

you know i'd stay here forever, right? when you're in a rocker and
i'm eating puree, ask me again to tell you the story of us.
i'll tell you a story better than cinderella or snow white.

they tell me i'm poetic but poems are written with meaning.
i write because i am searching for ways to describe you but
you're too big for poetry and i love you too much for language.