Get a load of this monster
who doesn't know how to communicate.
His mind is in a different place,
will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

Get a load of this train wreck,
his hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet,
But little do we know the stars
welcome him with open arms.



--lyrics

im overcome with the need to reinvent myself and confess everything to everyone, to become so open that im bleeding out every secret ive ever had to keep all over the linoleum floor, but second thoughts stitch me back together with needles made of words meant to cut, whittled down thin enough to fit just underneath the skin, pulling gashes in my skin together with online threads about checking up on your friends that everyone reads and nobody listens to, performative pieces that people regurgitate to make you think they care but they dont, because we're too busy worrying about ourselves to think of anybody else. we're conceited by nature, reverse narcissists kneeling by a river, scrutinizing our reflections, searching, aching for imperfections so we can say "look at how horribly ugly i am and pity me". we're too proud to be pitiful and too pitiful to have any pride, paradoxical advertisements of lonely people too scared to ask for love.

my hands are shaking and my mind is buzzing and if this makes any semblance of sense to you then I am so terribly sorry.

early morning
and I am warm
still bleary,
but content
while I listen to cavetown
and wonder when I'll see you today
perhaps soon
and maybe
you will like the drawing I made for you

red



The first color in art.

The beginning of a rainbow;

the color pushed out of your heart.



The color of a husky voice and bare legs.

It fills the mind, washing away doubts

and slowly drips onto innocence like tears on the floor.

It is sweat off an old man's brow; it is calloused hands.



It is the taste of your addicting lips.

It is Maria Brink's voice; it is the way 'fruchtfleisch' sounds.
Red is bold, but soft. It speeds up heartbeats.

Red is the beginning of us.

But red is also seeping out a hollow chest.



orange



A difficult color to understand.

One that means organized in the most chaotic manner.

It is dogs barking and it is the sharp and rocky sand.



Orange is your fingers after staying in the water too long.

Orange is the feeling of relief when you've finished all your work.

It is the drunk man's slurred words,

and it is the toxic smell that exudes out of him.



It is a fresh washed blanket, or a pillow without a cover.

Orange is Gymnopédies, No. 1, Lent et douloureux

or Études, Op. 10: No. 12 in C Minor.
It is a storm washing away the chalk on your driveway.

Orange is watered-down coffee on a Saturday afternoon.

Orange is the start to something more.



yellow



Yellow is a tentative smile and long hair.

It is the sky at 3 in the morning.

It is a hot day in summer, biting into a pear.



Yellow is a young girl wishing on a shooting star.

It is a soft voice, but meaningful words.

Yellow are too-big shoes; it is stepping into a puddle of mud.

Yellow is not knowing where the other sock to the pair is.



Painting thick paint over a canvas,

and listening to the song Paris by 1975.

Yellow is a run-down house by the edge of a forest.

Yellow is alluring, yet revolting. 

Yellow is banana splits and ripe strawberries.



green



Green is communication, or the middle grounds.

It is a peaceful lake near a volcano.

Green is being alive, and is the way fire sounds.



Green is the smell of an old book; it is a book that takes too long to read.

It is the smell of nail polish remover.

Green is red solo cups and red stains over furniture.

It is the warm air before a storm.



Green is singing the note C while someone is singing G.

It is the tingle you feel after putting on mint chapstick.

It is feeling like your melting into someone's arms.

Green brings life, but it is the most deadly thing out there.



blue



Blue is the match burning out too sickly and burning you.

Blue is a cigarette and the ashes of an unsent love letter.

It is your side of the bed being cold; it is having the flu.



Blue are arms pulling me in deeper.

Blue is the smell of candles; it is watering your houseplants.

It is a soft cat's tail rubbing against your face.

It is the giggles and the claws dug into your skin after it gets scared.



Blue is Empty Bed by Cavetown playing on repeat. 

It is running your hand down hair and connecting the constellations on your back.

Blue is two girls sleeping over, but instead of sleeping they're whispering.

Blue is driving your car too fast; you feel free.

Blue is accepting it's okay to be alone. Blue is ****** knuckles.



purple



Purple is home.

Purple is the sound of a crowded street

Or the feeling of the ocean on your feet; the foam.



Purple is the sound your pencil makes on paper

It is the feeling of taking the first bite of a warm cookie.

Purple is the smell of roses; you are purple.

My purple is Hey Jude by the Beatles.



Purple is looking in a mirror; it is open drawers.

Purple is your feet brushing up against mine under the table.

It is your favorite song playing until you can't stand it.

Purple is the last color in a rainbow.

But purple is anything but the end.

Purple is the start to a brand new beginning.

i.
To catch a boy in the wake of summer
Leave out a cup
Brimming with melon-colored milk tea and tapioca
Make sure to capture his smile
When he spills some on the counter

When it is still warm on the cheeks
And independence has yet to be fully realized
You catch a boy by offering him the futon
Night after night after night after night
You don’t think to ask your mom and
He doesn’t seem to mind the basement stench
But you overcompensate with your words anyway
You’re good at that

Kesha plays like a hymn in the cathedral
Of his boyfriend’s second car
But you catch a boy with the menthol sound
Of Cavetown at dusk in your hole of a bedroom
And he sits on the bed and watches you paint
As his notifications are piling up with passive-aggressive texts
Summer tastes like lemon and cough drops

cavetown wrote songs for us
i wish i could let u know
ur on my mind
do u see my smoke signals?
hoping i see urs too
i want to be worm food
without u

I'm sorry but I just wanted to see you in the soft colors of fall. I'm sorry but I just wanted to see you in the cold blanket of snow so I could keep you warm. I'm sorry but I just wanted to see you in the morning, sleepy and cuddly. I'm sorry but I just wanted to see you in the heat of the summer, my mouth like ice on your tongue, cooling you down. I'm sorry but I love you. I need you. I will beg and I will plead you. I will only want your happiness. I'd like to trace my hands on your shadow, while you shiver from my touch. I want to lean into your kiss, your arms around me. I'm still here, and I'll stay here, waiting for you. I know this is a lot that no one will probably read, but I need to get this down. I've never wanted someone like this. It might be cliche, but I want you more than oxygen. Need you more. I know I get confused sometimes but I know what I want. You. And I'm sorry that I keep hurting you, and everyone else, but I just want to make you happy. Make you feel loved. Because you are. I want to sit next to in the woods with a Dr. Pepper with the radio on and wear your shirt. I wanna wake you up and watch Adventure Time with you and snuggle my face on your shoulder. I want you to watch me draw, with your face so incredibly close to mine. I want to write stupid poetry with you on the couch while you show me your stupid tricks that love so so much. I wanna listen to Cavetown and blackbear with you and just be next to you. I don't even know if this is a poem, but I hope it's poetic, at least to you. And I doubt you'll even read this, but maybe one day... maybe. I wanna adopt a cat with you, maybe even a kid someday. To take in someone who has no one. I wanna live a life with you. I wanna grow up and grow old with you. I know I don't seem to focus a lot on the future, but I wanna focus on you. A future with, a present with you, make a past with you. You mean SO much to me. I wanna breathe in the same air as you, and run my hands through your hair and make little tiny braids while you fall asleep. I wanna sing to you, and write songs about you. I wanna make you feel happy when you cry. I want to be there for you, to make you smile. I wanna be yours. Because I love you. I can't say it enough, but I love you, I love you, I love you.