i might just be a catalyst,
a-change-your-life,
*******-mindblow-you type,
but fear will keep you
steadfast like an inchworm,
slowly making his way.

you are a sunday morning.
we all love sunday mornings,
the car rides with nowhere
specific to go, but when the
salsa-colored sky fades,
we never regret what
we did on that sunny
or even snowy, day.

i am thursday, which is
my favorite day of the week
which is no surprise to those
know who know me well, best.

some people hate thursdays
because it's the cooler,
kissed-half-of-the-basketball-team squad,
older sister of
wednesday, but it's still not friday,
the prom queen, of the week days.

but for some of us,
thursday is the new friday,
and i hope that's how you see me
because even though i'm not sunday,
i will make my way.

i don't move inch-by-inch,
i wouldn't even say i walk,
or even swim at all.
quite frankly, i hate swimming;
i hold my nose with my fingers
after gasping for air because i'm
afraid i'll inhale water and obviously,
die.

i fly like a butterfly, or some
other flighted living thing.
and i'm not one of those black
and white butterflies, even though
i act like the world is black
and white sometimes.
i am colorful.

i am colorful in my words
and actions, which catalyzes,
because remember,
i might be a catalyst,
that fear that will keep you steadfast.

because right when you think
you figured me out,
i will flutter by you,
and you will be in utter shock
with fear or with love,
changing your life
and blowing your mind.

but maybe that's the problem.
maybe you're the one that sees
the world in black and white,
and although this colorful
butterfly is making her way
into your sunday mornings,
you, my inchworm,
are colorblind.

you aren't the jack to my rose.
you are the iceberg to my titanic
because no matter the course i planned to go,
you were meant to cross my path,
hit me,
sink me,
and **** everything
i was and was supposed to be.

you look at me like
i'm nothing, as if you're looking at me,
but really,
you're daydreaming, drifting,
as far a way from me
as possible.

but then,
you look at me,
smile at me,
kiss me,
as if i'm everything, and you know it so well,
but try to hide it just as much.

"don't hide it."
"don't fear this."

"i didn't expect this either,
this nothing and also everything at once,"
are what I'm thinking but not saying
as I look at you the same exact
way you look at me.

It was at the party where we first met.
I wasn't feeling it, but you did.
Thank goodness, you threw your number down.

I didn't mean to call you; my phone glitched.
But I don't regret it.

Chorus:
Now we're sitting in the bay drinking away our sun days,
Seeing the boats rocking in the sea.
The band plays a song about falling in love,
But I'm not thinking about that, I'm thinking this is the best vacation I've ever had
_


Now you're climbing up on me like a puppy saying I'm the cutest girl,
Saying you will miss my kiss, and you wouldn't trade our time for the world.
It's a shame I live far away, and we can't continue this,

My hotel key needs to be returned to the lobby, and I got to go home,
But I don't wanna go,
Gotta enjoy what's left of your lips.

Chorus

Now this Sunday has turned to a Saturday and it’s a goodbye we can't withstand.
I'll always have that picture of us and the memories on the sand.
You in your board shorts and me dressed to ****,
I won't stay another night.
Oh hell yes I will.
Chorus

wanna play house in my playhouse?
love up on my body,
you and me only.
we'd give that tree kingdom
a run for it's money.
i don't need to plant any roots
with you or any being.
I just wanna play house
in my playhouse.

Of forty million *****, I am the one who made it.

I survived, and although I love walking my mutts, riding ferris wheels, and eating ice cream, I wonder about my brothers & sisters,

Those who swam with me through that channel and waited for that moment of conception.

Would they have enjoyed walking my mutts, riding ferris wheels, and eating ice cream too?

Yes, I made it into this world but at a cost of a world they’ll never get to know.

Understanding you

is a thought I try not to have.

You are like alcohol.

I do not want you often, but when I do, I realize I want you more than I know, and I hold that thirst back.

Like Dunn says,

"If you were whiskey, I would be a **** drunk."

And a **** drunk I would be because you are the one whiskey,

wine,

cocktail,

shot, drink I cannot

reach on the shelf even when

I stretch my arms,

limits, and

beliefs to reach.

You are some kind of mindfuck.

Who am I kidding?

I am

a ****

drunk .

every day,
i question whether you like me
because
you don't want exclusive,
but we've usually spent
at least one night every
weekend,
together in my sheets.

we also talk every day,
and sometimes at night.

and to add to that,
we've been top best friends on
snapchat,
for two weeks straight.

and last weekend,
i asked you what you
like to read
because i know you
read a lot in your free time
and party less.

you weren't too specific,
but i told you i love poetry.
you said you didn't mind it.

so, i gave you a copy of
one of my poetry books today
with sticky notes marking
the poems that i enjoy the most.

and when you rode the bus
home from work today,
you sent me a line
from one of those poems
that i enjoy the most.

i still don't know whether
you like me the way
i wish you did, but
i don't see a lot of guys
reading poetry gave
to them by their lady friends.

and i don't see a lot of guys
acknowledging the fact that they
are reading those poems given
to them by their lady friends.

I like running my little fingers
against the sides of your head
where I can feel the bits
of the forehead sweat
you claim to be the
effects of stress.

And I like the way you
move your hands
around my chest
to my little,
mountain *******.

And I would tear
a too-cool-for-school,
city slicker vest off of you.

It's true
you're my addiction,
my highest fixation.
Oh, I don't need vindication
cause I have no regrets.

You're kissing up on my neck.
Slow steps.
I can't even hold my breath,
but you've got me speechless.

And some girls like the boys
who steal the show in an
overworn muscle tee.
But as for me, I like my boys
a little more preppy.

So let's pour some
wine and whiskey.
You got me frisky
as you walk my way.

Stay. Come over to my place.
Claim that bed like I've let you
take my body.

No stopping.
Heart throbbing.
I
want
you.

i bet you never had
someone hit you
so hard
like a wave.

i bet you never
thought the day
would come
where someone
would be so eager
to stay.

well i can’t make
any promises,
and you can’t expect
to do the same either,
but when i look at you,
something speaks truth,
and i just gotta
tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

on friday night,
do you like to watch horror movies?
or are you the type,
to hang with your groupies
and smoke a doobie outside?

well, i’d choose neither.
and i **** at pulling
all-nighters,
but this little song
is not about me.

hey there,
hey you,
when i look at you,
something speaks the truth,
and i just gotta tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

they say if you ever lose
your sense of spark,
then something isn’t right.

and i can’t promise
to always be your sunshine,
but i’ll try and i’ll try
to always be the light.

if you’re in a room,
and you feel the gloom,
and nothing feels like
it’s going right,
look at me,
and you’ll see
somebody who likes

the way that you are,
the way that you do,
oh, you, hey you,
i’m digging you.

cause when i look at you,
something speaks truth,
and i just gotta
tell you.

i wanna know you.
i wanna know what gets you
going like you do.
i wanna know you.
why do you do the things you
do?

i bet you never had
someone hit you
so hard
like a wave.

i bet you never
thought the day
would come
where someone
would be so eager
to stay.

i wanna know everything.
because you’ve got that something,
that i can’t explain.

Wehaveasecret.

Wehaveasecret.
And for those of you
I’d love to tell,
You probably would not
Believe me,
Or he would deny it
Because who
Would believe me,
When it's him?

When I walk these halls,
I flashback to my first week.
That Friday.
A Couch.
Hometown *****.
Captain America.
Some Happy Gilmore Production.
And then, The Mighty Ducks.

That smile really sold me,
As if he didn’t know how to sell me enough.
And he isn’t as ***** as you think,
It wasn’t a nightmare, but more
Of a daydream.

I rejected his first try
After testingteasing him
For three hours.

Finally, I gave in.

It probably won’t happen again
Although I’ve pressed at
The idea a few times
After drinking a few too many
A week later with
A bunch of you,
And you, him, of course.

But it won’t he says.
And I’m not sure if I believe him
Becuase the lines between flirtation
And friendship is blurred
And the lines between
A look and that look,
Remind me
Of those Calvin's he
Stripped down to.

You got brown eyes,
freckles,
thin thighs,
but I wouldn't change you for the world.

You're a lost girl.
Say you're finding yourself girl,
but we all know the more you search,
the more you come back to me.

In our little town they all know,
who will stay and who will go.
You will always come home to me.

I'd marry you tomorrow.
I'm not even kidding.
Like if you said,
"Let's go. Let's do this,"
I would be 100% down.

We haven't known each other
very long, six months-ish.

We haven't explored each other
like a ship sailing every
nook and cranny
of every ocean and sea,
but I've seen enough.

You are the best thing that isn't even mine.
And in time, I hope to make that statement a lie.

I want you to be the best thing that is mine.
And I, want to be the best thing that is yours.
I think we're on our way, even without
a perfect, smooth sailing.

So, you could say I'm shipping us,
a one-true-pair.
We'd go up the ark together,
and I think Noah would agree,
two-by-two, you and I would be
the two that he'd expect to see
pairing up.

I'd marry you tomorrow.
I'm not even kidding.
Like if you said,
"Let's go. Let's do this,"
I would be 100% down.

I wonder how it feels
to know every letter,
word, sentence, and
thought is about you.

That somebody
felt so compelled
to write something
about you,
to know that you touched
them in some way
to express it in words,
and more importantly,
to the world.

Maybe you weren't theirs
or their world. Maybe they were
yours. Maybe you weren't either
of each others or both.

I know your reading this.
I know you know who
you are.
I know you know this is about you.

Please, before you make
your assumptions and comments,
please tell me how it feels
to know I wrote, write
about you.