the thing with feelings
(especially mine)
is
they are always fluctuating.
i need you, i hate you.
i want you, i despise you.
never the same, never consistent.
but,
what i feel for you
is more than a thought,
a desire,
a feeling.
i love you
and that will never change,
never fluctuate,
never disappear.
know this:
i love you
as a verb
not a feeling.

i handed you my heart with eager eyes
you gently hold it and it feels warm
(i think it's love)
you start to grasp it more firmly so it hurts
(i think it's discipline)
and you squeeze and you squeeze
until it shatters in your palm
(i thought it was an accident)
but you just brush your hands
down your faded old blue jeans
(the ones i picked out)
and walk away.
when it finally hits me,
what you did
i laugh
because although you crushed me,
you have remnants of me embedded in your hand.
when i finally begin to pick up the pieces
i see your rugged, callused hands extend once more.
not a scratch, not a scar.
i gathered all i could
but you will always have parts of me
down the the sides of your faded old blue jeans.

I decided to drink coffee each time I was sad
but now I find myself shaky and jittery
I cant hold my hands still
because the caffeine took over my body
and left my soul where it was