i am finally writing about you.
I am trying to imagine
verses about your touch
and choruses of your lips
but I am so awkward
and so nervous and so not
ready for these feelings
and the loss that comes
when they’ll be forced
apart and I cannot tell
if I am more happy or
more afraid or avoiding
the feelings altogether
but I know I’m a better me
when I’m driving in your car
and I know my heart is happier
when you kiss my face a dozen
times and I don’t know what it
means but I’m trying so hard
to understand the feeling in my
stomach when I am in the car, driving home, away from you.
11:01 pm • 17 July 2013 • 1 note
in six weeks time.
I try and tell you
of the loveliness
in your bones
and every time
you are surprised.
I smile at the confusion,
at the denial, at the idea
that you could ever think
you are less than what it
feels to walk along the
shoreline at midnight.
But I remember that
the world is not always
so kind to the souls
that need it most and
I know I cannot repair
damage to your poor,
But I will kiss you a
thousand times over,
making invisible marks
over the visible scars, I will
give you words to hear
over the visible ones, too.
You have the universe
inside you and I am so
lucky to watch the sky.
12:34 am • 16 July 2013 • 9 notes
I loved you more
than I had loved
anyone and you
were greater to
me than if someone
offered me the
moon on a string
but I was never
certain with my
actions and I left
your world hanging
and I am so sorry
I did not see the
stars in front of me
when I was counting
what I thought was
love in your eyes.
10:42 pm • 15 July 2013 • 3 notes
corning, new york.
I cried at least four hours a day
for at least four weeks straight
when John decided that the stars
in her eyes were brighter than
the hope in my heart, but my bones
missed him like the way they miss
being in your car and thriving
until one in the morning.
I felt my body shake when I found
the card Amanda wrote me for my
16th birthday and had to lay down
my thoughts of ever being her friend
again, but my nervous heart never
missed her like it misses your hand
around my waist when you could
tell without words that anxiety
had, once again, claimed my body.
I have left my elementary school
friends and hopes and I have seen
beautiful corners of the world and
myself and I have had to rebuild
my heart after more than one attack
but I have never had to learn to live
my life without a person - the only
damn person - who knew exactly
what to do when I cried.
9:39 pm • 15 July 2013 • 4 notes
i’m listening to those country love songs again.
of my day is spent
thinking of us, of you:
laughing with you
talking to you
My heart is warm
at the thought of you
thinking of me for even
a split second and that
is when I realize how
deep under I am and
how lovely is to be
drowning in you.
10:34 pm • 14 July 2013
for a boy who has no idea.
If I could count on my fingertips
the number of times I have wanted
to truly tell you how scared I am,
I would need more hands to touch
you with because I can never find
the words to express how dark
some nights can be and how the stars
are in your eyes and I need
them to stay there, need you to stay here.
I am shaking at the thought of wanting
someone this much, of letting someone
in to the place where other people have
only ever ran from with fire under their
shoes, leaving me in a cloud of dust,
choking on their absences’ ash.
I cannot find the rage to scream it in your face
but I cannot even find it in myself to whisper
in your ear all the times I felt I did not want to feel.
But you make my hands shake at just
the thought of your skin underneath them
and I cannot help but want to kiss you
before I have even finished my last sentence
of hope and for once I am wanting to feel
these feelings and for once I am trying to let myself.
9:56 pm • 14 July 2013
I know that it is my fault
for my heart not hearing
his promise to stay, my
fault for already assuming
he has his feet ready to run.
But those promises have
been as fleeting as those
who have made them
and it is not that I do not
want to believe this boy
with a stare that makes me
feel the stars I am made out
of - it is that I no longer know
how to believe in those who
make me feel alive because
they have all taken the
life right out of me.
1:47 pm • 14 July 2013 • 2 notes
Swinging my legs off the kitchen
counter, surrounded by best
but not old friends, I never laughed
so hard as I did when Olivia made
a joke I can’t even remember.
I was never one for wine
and nothing about that has changed,
but something about it felt lighter
that night, when I knew I was where
I was supposed to be.
I think I learned how to be okay
without having to be totally happy,
that happiness doesn’t have to be
always and sadness can be sometimes
but okay is allowed to be always
and that in itself is fine.
12:55 pm • 12 July 2013
february wasn’t ruined for me this year.
Isn’t it strange how the number
on a calendar makes us fear
the past? It isn’t happening,
it has not happened, for a month,
a year, five, ten - yet the clock
hits midnight and the date
changes and it is like we force
ourselves to deal with the pain
all over again. Like we cannot
let ourselves live our lives
as we would on any other 5th
or 6th or 17th, we must stop
the world and wallow in our sadness,
like a memorial to the times
that have already come and gone.
11:24 am • 11 July 2013
The flowers in my bones
were ready to wither away
from uncertainty when you
came and watered their colors.
I wanted to write a poem
about these roots that you
helped to grow in my heart,
but I can only see the way
you smiled at me between
kisses and I hope that these
roots do not get tangled up
in another loss, because
while I promise that my
insides are radiant with love,
my skin cannot glow
without your sunshine
grazed upon it. Please
don’t take the stars
in my eyes away.
2:54 am • 11 July 2013