I was born with a knack for reading and a passion for writing and a terrible, ten cent memory. although I can't recall what I ate for breakfast (unless your mother made it) I can still remember the first time we met.

I remember looking up at your apartment, seeking refuge from the cold, pushing away "this is a bad idea" and thinking maybe honey colored windows and smokey air could change my life. plants hang like bodies behind the blinds. now I think "this was a great idea" and I still can't decide if I should've ascended those stairs- two flights- right into your life. you were sitting on the couch and wouldn't look my way because the cigarette between your lips was far more intriguing. car horns and screams erupt from the tv. this is the first time we speak since I first saw you in middle school, pushing my friends into the bathroom of the wrong gender.

I remember spending every day working my way to the couch. first the floor. then the chair. then beside you. and once I found this place God knows I knew I was at home. I've never liked watching you play video games and swing from roof to roof and flip a truck with the push of a button, but now there's nothing I miss more than the sounds of that glowing controller. only when I traded my dark sweaters for a tight tee had I caught your attention.

I remember the night we taped your mouth closed and your wrists tight and tossed you in the trunk as a joke. I still have pictures. you tried to speak and although your words were muffled, I could understand. I was the translator. and I still am. you told me you'd be satisfied if you kissed my best friend before the night was over. I told you I couldn't handle myself on an empty stomach. I puked all over the side of the car.

I remember trying to start a fire for forty five minutes and chugging liquor like water before our friends returned. asking you to sit with me that night was an invitation to fall in love with me. however, the type of love you showed was not one I knew well. I never let anyone **** me because I was too afraid of myself. but I never stopped you because you weren't afraid of anything. I wonder if you still would have done it knowing how far along id take you. I wonder what kind of dreams you had when you passed out in the trunk and I shuttered in January air, 3 am and the tape from your mouth is on the steering wheel. there is no such thing as silence. there are only hands rubbing my back as I try to remember how the sun feels.

I remember bruises on my thighs that looked like Van Gogh touched a canvas with a blindfold on. I swear I shook for three days after That: when I saw you, when I wanted you, when I thought of you. three things I still tackle with every morning smoke. I used to think you'd never speak to me after that night. who would've guessed we'd have a million more.

I remember the first time you had me completely exposed, and it was not just my skin. I was knocking things off my bucket list, knocking my head on the headboard, knocking on your door at midnight with a blunt in my back pocket. remember when you punched me in the throat on accident? I leaned into it. should've knocked some sense into me.

I remember laying on your bed listening to the messages my first love had left on my phone a year ago. "I love you, I love you. please come back. I love you." you thought they were creepy. I wanted you to need me this badly. I wanted you to hold me when I cried. "message deleted." "message deleted." I wanted to keep you from walking out of the room, and I wanted to keep your mother from walking in. she thought I was a good one. "I like her," she shouted, cackling over the sink. "she's good for you. she's so good for you." she doesn't know I carved her couch with your knife. she doesn't know how you dragged me in front of the mirror and told me I was beautiful. she once called me and told me I used her as a hotel. it was my home. I am still there, somewhere. I remember so many things and yet not one is valuable when I try to find words to fit. I can't tell you what love is. you can read every poem and hear every love song and see every photo and you will never know. but if you give me an hour and a bottle of wine, I can tell you what it's like when it's gone.

02.09.13

You, pretty girl, said I’ll never understand how much you love me. But, I don’t know why you love me like you do. What I actually think is; why? I’m nothing special. You could have any boy and I’m just another guy in a band.

But, in another way, I do understand. I know youre hopelessly head-over-heels. And I cant explain how much you mean to me. You are the reason why my dream is now become a reality. You are the reason of the smile on my face.

Believe me, when I said “I love you!” I mean it with all of  my heart. I found it silly that you spend your teenage years thinking about me more than your beautiful self. You said “You are my sunshine” “You saved me” but then you said “He doesn’t even care” “Why did I keep trying” and I don’t understand.

You are everything I want in a person, why are you so sad? Pretty girl, you are my sunshine. I want you to be happy, you mean the whole world to me. Don’t even say I said this to earn attention because I meant every single word I said. You like me, I like you. Its simple.

One day, I’ll find a girl and she might be special. But you’ll always be on my mind. I don’t want you to waste your time on me. You’ll fall in love again, you’ll love him. And I’m okay with that, princess. Youre so beautiful of course any boy will fall fot you. Don’t worry about me. The memory of me will soon fade away. Maybe one day you’ll laugh when you think of me and your heart will flutter, a bit, for me. But mine always skips a beat for you. You are gorgeous and I cant describe how much I want to hold you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. But I cant. You will find someone that can do that and when you do, please hold him tight.

Find someone who can replace me. Find someone who makes your heart race. Pretty, stunning, gorgeous, beautiful girl, you bring a smile to my face everytime I think of you. Please think of me. Smile like I know you do. And take a deep breath.
I love you, you know that.

09.02.14


I guess there’s this part of me that hates every aspect of what you are. You are the definition of what I want and look for. Sometimes, it’s painful to think that those many girls out there look at you and think of you the same way I do. They see you as someone who is nearly irreplaceable. Someone who gives them hope and love just by being alive. Yet, I found myself going absolutely crazy for you.

I want to be the reason of your cry because you’re laughing too hard. And I want your grumpy morning attitude. I want your sleepy morning voice, that gives me chills everytime. Sometimes, I’d like to imagine us curled up in bed, pretending to watch a movie when really we’re stealing glances at each other because it’s ridiculous that we found each other.  

I want your arms wrapped around my waist when you feel threatened by someone else. I want your eyes to look at me and they constantly give off the little sparkle they have.

I have painted this stupid image in my mind that you are my safe place, my home. Maybe it’s not stupid. Maybe it’s what’s keeping me sane and breathing right now. You do these little things everyday, and not realizing how much it affects me. Sometimes, I think I’m the only one feeling that way. But that’s silly.

Thousand of girls feel the same way, think the same way, wishing that some way, life will take a dramatic turn and maybe, just maybe, they’ll end up with a happily ever after. With you.

A piece of me thinks that I owe you my life because the slightest curve of smile that your lips made can keep me happy for days. And that’s what I don’t understand.

Love is “always wanting them to be happy and doing everything in your power to keep them happy” right? But this time, it’s twisted. I want you to be happy and you want me to be happy, but not in the same way. I want you to be happy and I want you to smile. I give you my everything, my heart.
But what did I get back? All I get back is a reassuring smile. And somehow I’ve convinced my broken heart to believe that you mean it with your whole heart. After everything is over: the girls, the fame, the fun, the youthful age, the music. Maybe then you’ll realized all I gave up for you.

And what makes this all completely over-the-top mad is that I wouldn’t trade this obsession I’ve got for everything. And when someone asked me, “Why?” I don’t think I could explain why; simply because they would never understand and they don’t even care. But you care, or at least that’s what I told myself.

to the first boy I ever loved.
you had tan skin and black hair,
and the hum of your voice
was a tight life jacket
as I struggled
to float in the current,
two years ago.
you were in love from the start.
I gave you my heart,
and you made me believe
that Forever was still real.
I almost died with your hands
around my throat.
and your name is written on my heart, fading.
you left, and things are not the same as you've come back.

to the second boy I ever loved.
you had tan skin and black hair,
and the slur in your speech
made me question my tone
as I whispered
in the dead of night,
one year ago.
we were in love from the start.
I gave you my hands,
and you made me believe
that Hope was still real.
I almost died with your lips
on my pale thighs.
and your name is written on my insides, burning.
you left, and things are just the same as you've come back.

to the third boy I ever loved.
you had tan skin and black hair,
and the beauty in your words
made my mind spin even harder
as I washed down
wine and whiskey,
one month ago.
I was in love from the start.
I gave you my mind,
and you made me believe
that Love was still real.
I almost died with your love
just out of reach.
and your name is written in my skull, screaming.
you left, and things will never be the same. you won't come back.

sheets bind your legs
you're covered in white.
I watched you in battle,
and you lost the fight.

your skin's now a canvas.
scars. tubes in your arms.
the ache to be free will not
stop those alarms.

so you break from the bed,
trace lines on the wall.
eyes scan the room blankly,
on me, they don't fall.

my arms long to hold you,
I stick by the door.
I don't even flinch when
you fall to the floor.

the nurses are gone now,
but I couldn't yell,
when you slipped from the window
and laughed as you fell.

it wasn't the drugs.
dope, coke, or crack.
all you needed to live
was for me to come back.