I think of your smile
And I wish I could see it
I think of your laugh
And I wish I could hear it
I think of your lips
And I wish I could kiss them
I think of your hugs
And I wish I could feel them
I think of you
And I miss you

I think of you
And I love you

I wanted to fall asleep immediately
So I could hold on to the sound of your voice
Float on its timbre
And let your english envelop me like a foreign language

This aberrant dialect.

Every letter wrapping me in its cursive like a warm blanket as I try to commit these strange sounds to memory, because a sentence has NEVER made my face soo flush
OR made me feel the way my soul feels barefoot center stage.

That last breath before blackout.
The feeling in my chest as the curtains rise...

Honest
Childish
Your word choice

I wanted to fall asleep immediately when we got off the phone so I wouldnt miss that flight to you in my dreams!
Where the night doesn't end...

I hadn't taken off my earrings
Or my necklace or my glasses
I hadn't tied my hair
Or brushed my teeth

I didnt say my prayers!! I, I wanted to fall asleep immediately so I could pretend that you were
THERE.
Ya know?

Holding me at heart-beat's length
Telling me to keep talking cause
my voice is so mellifluous.
my silly rambling is a lullaby.

Sweet, melodic
Pleasant, soothing
Too much of a good thing

I wanted to fall asleep immediately so I could land on our conversing and allow the reverberating echo of my collision to torment every
Stage.
Of.
REM.
A reflection of him
And me. And time. Delayed gratification.
The ever-waaaaning night!
Tomorrow
but a slow
creep...
sigh
I wanted to fall asleep immediately
'Lest this moment
forgo my keep.

3.18am 7.25.14

I can smell him on my sheets
      I can taste him in my dreams
             I can still feel every inch where he's touched me
I hear his laughter echoing in the walls
             I can still see him in all these pictures I saved for
           memories

But this bed is bare
My dream's a nightmare
       I can't hear
             His laughter
       He's not near
             Enough to touch
My eyes are blinded by tears
He's killed my senses,  
      I'm no longer aware

Everything around me,  slowly fading away
His face, his scent, his laughter,  his touch
Maybe I'll just pop a few pills and sleep away the day
At least he's in my nightmares, the pain of reality is too much

One day I will buy chocolate milk,
One day I will fly first class,
One day my shirts will be silk,
One day I’ll have a backstage pass.

I am accustomed to saying No
To things that would make me smile,
It’s not that I’m short on dough
But splurging just isn’t my style.

The waiter asks if I’d like a sundae,
Oh my, I couldn’t do that,
Perhaps I’ll have it one day
Because I don’t want to get fat.

This attitude long ago was learned
And strangely it has survived,
Trust me I’m deeply concerned
Why I am so often deprived.

I know I deserve the best,
And shouldn’t make life tougher,
I feel that I’m overly stressed,
And I don’t deserve to suffer.

Starting today I shall vow
To indulge my deepest desires,
To spoil myself I’ll learn how
Before my dull life expires.

i thought it’d be poetic
to leave you the same way i found you,
with a contentless text—
a simple entered space
(i knew you wouldn’t catch it)
although you seem to be someone
who thinks very deeply about all someones,
your thoughts about me are puddles
disguised as over-complimenting oceans

and i really do not know
what i am or what i’ve been to you,
or if i’ll be able to keep myself away
from you, or why you’d drive hours
to see me in the middle of the night
when you “plan on kissing at least one
girl in the next three months,”
(could care less if it’s me)

"what would i be waiting for," you asked.

i’m barefoot, chasing a train i know
is on tracks that lead away from where
i want and need to be (but i liked the way
it felt when your hand touched mine)

glad i never gave you any piece of my heart,
because you’re the type of boy who’d
rip it to shreds, hide your claws
behind your back, and tell me that
i should’ve seen it coming
(though you would’ve been right)

maybe you’re just bored,
and that’s why you decorate
your skin with ink and don’t care
about whose lips you’ve touched,
and i wish i could figure you out,
wish i could draw a perfect portrait
with my words (or even just
my thoughts) of who you are,
but i won’t pretend i know you

i hate you and your ***** tattoo
(but i don’t really hate you,
i hate the way i let you make me feel.)