I feel consistently unwanted
Always afraid
That I’m really worth only
The time someone pays
And when they stop giving
My worth plummets down
I know this is flawed
But it makes a deafening sound
Like so much screaming
Like midnight fights
I’m left in the foray
In the dark of the night
I hate being lonely
I hate how my mind
Turns against me in dreams
How good days it grinds
With one lost moment
It ruins good pace
And I go crazy
Seeing things out of place

If you establish it with me first
i can be anything
from one night stand to summer fling
(about this I
am a liar but you wont know)
if i like you enough
if you are a good enough friend
i’ll put my heart on a high shelf for something temporary
but if those three words cross your lips
you better clarify how you mean them
and if you really love me
you better know what that actually means
I am crazy
i have worlds in my brain
and more often than not
i cannot stop myself from speaking in flowering phrases
and poetry
my tongue is a fountain of those things
if you find them pretentious
do not cross my path
do not make a blind grab for a heart you cannot hold
without breaking
i have precious little confidence in myself
i do not need another
to tell me that what i am doing is less than beautiful.
a warning
The beginning is always spinning wonder
but you must realize there are stages to love
at some point we will grow tired
and confused i need you to find yourself with me not without me
loving me means fighting
without tearing me down.
I also warn you that i am clingy
i do not like being alone
so unless you want to spend every minute of your time with me
make sure i keep my friends
and take me out to meet yours.
another warning
i am fragile
i am easily disrupted and destroyed
so unless your strong hands
build more than they break
unless you create more than you take
do not touch me
i am tired of being loved
by a man that has no idea how to love me.
I have a friend i could refer you to
he knows how to love me
despite that he does not  romantically
but he knows my body
like a musician knows their violin
and my mind
like the favorite forest paths of childhood
he reads me like a script he needs
to commit to memory
savoring every word
he gives me leave to be
whatever i need to be
he asks me for no apologies for who i am
unless you can do that and love me as well
and love me like i am everything,
because i will love you like you are,
then you have no business loving me.
but if you know you can do those things
by all means try, i invite you to love me

Why is it never the right time? You are favorite forest paths of childhood. You are deepest desires of heart and mind. You are fire pure and true, and yet, I never get burned by you. You've gotten so cold, I've gotten so warm. You've gone from ocean to stone, I cannot stir you though I am still storm. I might as well be silent for all the difference I make. I know I am light but you wont let me, we are always out of sync. Our hearts always cry at different times. And now you refuse to love. And it was my doing it was i that broke your heart, and your pride let you decide you didn't want to love someone how you loved me again. Listen to your favorite song you know the name that you put with love. I do too, I hate that its always the wrong time with you.

Please don't take this the wrong way. I hope you are not my soul mate. I hope your anchor line is not tethered to the ship in my chest. I love you, but in the way that I want take tape and glue and show you how to reconstruct a heart from all the broken bits.I want to kiss your salt stained lips and leach away the pain. I want to wander with you a while in the pouring rain. I adore you, but in the way that I like to watch the light play across your face and imagine what you could be. I like the look in your face when your looks meet with mine. I like the way we can watch the interplay of our minds. But I know you cannot be in love with me and that is okay too, because, at least for now, I don’t want to be in love with you. I just want to wander for a while content in this, in being who we are, which is what the other needs, and enjoying the occasional kiss.

This is all lies. This is all half truths. This is all I swore I wouldn't do. Especially falling in love with you, I am happy but I am lying, it kills me each time to think that with summers ending you go away.   I don't want to be in love with you, because it will hurt, unfortunately I already am.

If I found those same six songs
If I played them over and over, then,
Would that heal your pain
Could you love me again.
How could you get over me
you who loved me most
finally let go
and I in love
and about to be
pledged to another
as he left
I woke up
uncovered
I never got away from wishing you would be
still in love with me
and when I see you
dearest friend
I still cant breathe.

You know how people say they love poetry? How they can quote the classics and elicit a response of admiration from those surrounding them? I can quote very little poetry. I know so few lines by heart. But I love poetry in that I could bury myself in it. And despite that some of my own words fall flat on the paper, I love the play of the lines. Poetry is the cure for the sadness in muly soul. Good writing is better than alcohol and I like to drink in both. I watch hin smoke his cigarettes, a few a day. The way he lazily holds them in fingers and lips. I rarely smoke, but I hold words in that same lazy way and with that same desperate need.

People seem to have this thing where they want to be the one that leaves. I don’t know if it’s because being left is painful or if it is because being left seems to carry some shame with it. I have no interest in leaving first. I never have. I will leave if I have to but I feel no shame at being left. People seem to think leaving means you won; it means you arose victorious over this relationship. You got out before it dragged you down. In most cases I see the opposite. You see I won the argument that most relationships are famous for: I stayed, I loved you more. When all your words turned to lies in your mouth I stood unwavering in what I said and what I felt. It’s not a pride thing, it’s a me thing. I have no interest in winning by leaving, none in self-preservation, or in dodging pain. I only endeavor to pursue love. As a writer I know there is truth to the idea that love is the driving force of story. I do not seek to cut it short, to lesson my pain or theirs. Whether it’s between friends or lovers, I know it’s going to hurt, I simply do not care.