I know you write at night, say you'll have time to wither in the morning. funny how you fight yourself when all your body wants is rest and surrender.
Is it really a battle when both sides come from the same?

How crazy that your body just wants you to be okay and you can’t even bring yourself to listen. How crazy that I tried so hard to be your pillow and you wouldn’t lay down next to me.

and how many mornings did I watch you sleep through?

how many nights did you spend in the dark cracking knuckles and biting the wood off pencils?

how many times do i have to give in to you before you let me in?
how many times do i write about you only to write about him?

how many times does the subject change from one to the other and i’ll argue with you about him when we’re looking at one another?

how many times will it hurt before it all feels the same? how many times will this stop feeling like new burn and pain?

you kept talking about mountains.
and I died wondering
how you could climb so high—
and still not come for me

You never told me what you thought about me, you were always scared of reducing these feelings into words.
I never knew what you thought about me, I was always scared of knowing those feelings you say are bigger than words.

hold my hand

I can't write anything
    that doesn't sound slightly stupid
            anymore
                    my words haven't kept up
with my maturing. Or so it seems.

         maybe I'm just outgrowing
   the stupid words I used to use to describe
things. but maybe is also another stupid word.

maybe maybe maybe
          the word dances off my tongue. which is totally
(completely) repulsive.
        why should a word
that sits on the top of everyone's
        tongue
               waiting to strike
dance. it's a drug they don't warn you about
     ****** if you use it ****** if you don't.
        
the next best excuse
                     to 'I don't know'-- couldn't tell you how many times
i've held back because i clutched that word
     like it was a part of me.

maybe. here it is again. maybe, I thought that "maybe"
     really was a part of me. it's hard to distance yourself
from something so excruciatingly
     fitting.
there was something about "maybe" that just felt
necessary. as though certainty never stood a chance.

the worst of things being that we were all defined by our cowardice and that we couldn't stand
       the thought of being wrong (not even once.)

nobody  saying anything
with any certainty. they knew how fragile
the world was. none of us were
strong enough to deal with being any shade of WRONG.
we're all too insecure to be throwing around words like that anyways.

Been feeling like
I'm one of those cuts that you can only see under a certain light
and once you see them in that certain light, it's hard to unsee it
   and you can't stop seeing it in that light. Even when it's dark you can still see it on your skin.

Lately I've just been cut with my own sadness, as though there's nothing more occupying in the world than the chills I get after a disappointing text message. Hugging my knees, I'll sit and stare at a wall. I'm depressing myself, they say.

Maybe I am. But I can't fight the urge enough not to.

there wasn't another day
where i looked here right in the eye
to tell her i loved her

i was so scared of her
being alone in a room with her
was like going into a dark house
and having all the lights turn on at the same time

she was bitter at best, everything mean she said
came out like spit in her mouth,
but i loved it so much because it always
made me see the whole world anew

and i loved her so much,
i just couldn't tell her that
she's not the type to want to hear it
but i'm the type to want to say it
i just couldn't

you understand, don't you?
when you want to do something so bad
when a word is on the tip of your tongue,
when you're about to confess something but you find out
the person isn't so trustworthy,
so you change the subject. pretend to have forgotten
what it is
you're about to say.

i never forgot.
i never forgot what to say.
i loved her, it was always on my mind.
it was terrifying. i would think about something unrelated for
a single second of peace and then back
to remembering her and how much i loved her.
and how much i couldn't say it.

i wish i could end this off saying i told her, that
i caught her by the shoulder and looked
right into her eyes.

but when i finally realized
to say those stupid words
it was too late