He'd give me that kind of feeling.
You know the kind I'm talking about.

The relief of seeing him before class started, clarifying that he will be at school, and that you made a good choice by coming. How else would you see him and make sure he's okay.

The feeling in your throat when he quietly approaches you as you sit underneath a tree, and sitting next to you, asking you if you're alright. 'He cares' you think.

The butterflies in your stomach-wait, scratch that- the ******* fire breathing dragon in your lungs whenever he wraps his arms around your shoulders after school before he goes home and you go on the bus.

The rush of texting him back,
The smell of his cologne makes you feel sick because its so angelic,
The feeling of cold lips because you had a dream you kissed and his lips were frozen from the snow around you guys,
The feeling that you know you'll be okay in the future, even if you don't speak to him.
Because knowing he is real, walking, alive, and that God has finally done something nice for you.
is a good enough feeling.

He'd say to me, "What if I died right now? What would you do?"
  In those seconds, between his question and my answer, they thoughts that ran through my mind were endless.

  I'd think, if you were to die right now, I would take take my life and easy last 1…2…3 breathes next to your corps, that way, our souls would be aligned and we would inevitably be together for always and eternity during life after death. Our shadows would be able to run free against the wind and we wouldn't have to worry about anything except our locking lips and dare to stare into each others eyes and baby everything, will be okay.

"What if I died right now? What would you do?"

  If you were to die right now, I would turn mute. For I do not want to speak the words of my mind if your name will be brought up constantly and I refuse to let the words of love and passion exit my lips if it is not towards you because mama told me never to lie, and I will not to the boys and to the men who say those words the way you once did and I. I would rip off the bracelet I made for you but never gave and never lay a hand on your sweatshirt ever again for the gorgeous scent of you would make me sick to my ******* stomach. I would shred any poem ever written in my notebook with the mention of your name, your laugh, your eyes, and your stupid, awkward ******* walk with anger and dismay. I would cut part of your body ever inked with your name in ballpoint pen with the blade hidden deep inside the walls of my pencil sharpener.
  Because you, are like the rain I adore so much in May and the reason I did not stop myself from breathing on nights that I felt so alone.

"What if I died right now? What would you do?"

  If you were to die right now,I would take the bus to the homes of the girls who 'cared for you' and I would kiss them. I would kiss their mouths, cheeks, jawlines, stomach, thighs, nose and arms so hard with my fist! They pretended to care about you when they never loved you! They never loved you like I loved and still love you! Nobody has ever and will never love you the way I do!

And I hope you know, that the reason I do not compliment you daily is because I'm not sure whether to start from top to bottom or bottom to top. I would try to make it easier and compare you to the most beautiful thing in the world but how do you compare you to yourself, I don't get it!

Would would I do if you died right now?!
I would loose my ******* mind because if such a magnificent crystal as yourself dies then why should somebody like me, so much as a pebble, deserve to live?!

What made you think that I was prepared for this question?!
What made you think that I was prepared to even think about loosing you?!

Dear; You,
   I get it that you and I did not last forever, but I cannot stand up to that ******* reality and face the fact that I already lost you!


So please, do not as me questions such as "What if I died right now what would you do?"


Because I have no idea

I lay on my floor, flat on my back and staring at the lifeless ceiling.
My breathing,
so soft, so quiet.
I don't want to hear the noise my chest makes going up and down,
for I will avoid the evidence that I am, indeed, still alive and not dead yet.
I should be.


It's late
but I don't want to sleep.
I do not fear the feeling of sleep, I fear the morning after.
The disappointment that tags along when I wake up that I am still breathing, and I did not die in my sleep.
I will have to go through another day of never being anybody's first choice and never doing anything right.

And I want to die but I don't want to **** myself because that's such a selfish thing to do, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I could only imagine the world as the shape of your jawline and the forrest half the colour of your brown eyes, that I didn't realize that your footprints were only another thing that was beautiful on the sand.
I'm sorry the coffee cup that you last drank from is still sitting on the counter waiting to be washed and sometimes I kiss the spot you sipped from, I'd do anything, to feel anything, that once touched you.