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J Jun 2019
thought about you again today
Ignored the sun to cast myself in your shadows in
the back of my brain
Loved you with all my fibers
Torn and frayed
J Apr 2017
We joke now, in our adult days
About being kids, attached at the waist
How we would grow old n still be the same
I'm happy to say that nothing has changed
You have blessed me with a landing place
An inn, free of charge when I'm wavering
A laugh in the morn, a hug during the day
I'm happy to say that nothing has changed
Twelve years of friendship, 100 remain
The kind of love I don't go about in vain
Thank you for being the kind of love I don't fear losing
Twelve years and it is me you are still choosing
I owe you the world, so take what you need
To my best friend: I love you so deeply
J May 2017
Never enough
Always too much
I overflow past the brink
Empty out into the sink
I'm sorry for what I am
*too much to be held in such fragile hands
J Sep 2017
I will always be too much to love
I’ll always love too much
I find my love is not enough
I find myself empty
Seeking validation in other souls
Outside my own,
Messy and alone,
I’ll always be too much to love
J May 2016
Men try to mend my wounds by spewing lines like  "But you're too pretty to be sad"
as if I asked for this.
They try and try again,
saving is in their culture.
Chivalry is etched in them like a childhood scar
Their forests are filled
with knights on white horses
as they've been taught.
Mine are not.
My woods reak of matted down blankets from days without movement.
They feel like exhaustion.
Sometimes you can even hear the sound of their roots being pulled
right out of the ground
that shrieking sound will leave you
Awake for days.
"too pretty to be sad" will not place these rotten roots in graves.
My trees have aged much faster than theirs, 21 years old, bending too easily with the wind.
as it howls, they cower,
I wonder when they will break
and who will be there to hear them.
Because sometimes I feel that people only like to look at my flowers,
and not bear what they have to offer, what they would say. Those sounds would scare them away. Sometimes I feel that people only like to look at my leaves.
They're too pretty to die, anyway.
J Jul 2016
The Spring this year was cloudy,
Darkness ******* my sunlight
Many mornings were stormy
and bitter were most nights

That was until I met you.

I met you in July
and then the heat stopped burning
I met you by accident
and then I suddenly stopped hurting.

I'm so happy to have met you.

The energy you give delivers light
You make my heart feel light again,
It bounces every morning,
waiting just to see your grin
You make me want to shine again
and I can't thank you enough for that.

Please stay for a while,
It's been a long time since I've shined so bright.
I might not dull out again with you in my hand.
fdfhjglskfdjh CRUSHES ARE GROSS bye
J May 2016
To the boy who loves me next:
Please understand I am complex,
and **** your cliches,
this is not some Tumblr post.

I am a host for emotions I cannot control at all times
there are some things you should know
before you decide that you love me,
don't.

Don't tell me that it's going to be okay when I stop breathing
especially in public.
Please don't go when I push you away, though. I don't mean it.
You need to know that I want you to fight for me when I tell you to leave.

My favorite color is purple and my favorite food is strawberries.
(oh and this weird vietnamese noodle dish I never know the name of)

Sometimes I will test you, and not in the "just checking if you were listening"
test kind of way

But I will see how far I can push you until you want to leave,
please don't.

To the boy who loves me next:
understand that the first boy to love me took a lot when he left.

I'm not picking up the pieces anymore, I don't expect you to.
But I am creating new ones and need someone to be there to hold the box of nails or kiss my finger when I've slammed it with the hammer.

Know that you probably won't do anything wrong,
well you might, you're a guy
so you're probably going to say something I will take as
completely sexist!
you pig!
don't you dare compliment my *****! *******!

wait! that's what boyfriends are for,
I'm sorry, I forgot.
I do that a lot.

To the boy who loves me next:
I'm a feminist.
I probably eat 10 bananas a day.
I love coffee and would rather wear my hair up.
And yes, I ****.

To the boy who loves me next:
my room will not be clean,
messy is as messy does,
and even when I don't do a lot
(which is often, oh boy do I have my days)
I am a slob.

To the boy who loves me next:
Chamomile tea is my favorite smell.
I will probably tell you 45 times a day that I think you're handsome
and mean it every time.

To the boy who loves me next:
I have scars on my arm
please don't mention them
I've put that behind me
somewhere you're allowed but cannot get comfortable

To the boy who loves me next:
I'm going to listen to the same song 150 times in a week because I like it,
and I'm sorry but you will probably have to deal with it.

To the boy who loves me next:
I'm sure you're going to like the song anyway.
I have three cats,
I can't take care of dogs very well.
I'm over emotional.
Baby goats make me cry.

To the boy who loves me next:
I cry,
a lot actually.
Don't take it personally.
You'll understand eventually.

To the boy who loves me next:
I like watching the History Channel but I've been watching Gossip Girl for a month now.
I pace myself because I become
emotionally attached to characters in bad MTV shows
faster than real people.
I want you to think I'm a bookworm but I start more than I finish

To the boy that loves me next:
You won't if you see me without my ADD meds.

If you love me next, know:
I like rough ***.
Pretty rough if I might add but I won't tell you that for a year
because I'm shy
You should also know I'm loud,
I don't mean in bed,
I mean roll the windows down because I talk
and get really excited over trivial things like
fresh fruit in season
and sometimes I ramble on about nothing
and you should be able to handle that

Can you handle that?

To the boy who loves me next:
I am apologetic and scared because I have loved once  
I never thought that high would bring me down to where I am now

To the boy who loves me next:
I'm going  to pretend I'm rough around the edges,
please see past it,
or at least love me long enough to let me explain.
The boy who loved me first knows everything.
And since he's gone,
you're going to have the leftover weight.

To the boy who loves me next:
I promise it will be worth the strength it takes to carry it,
I promise to love you back as much as I think I deserve to be loved at all.

To the boy who loves me next:
do it fully or don't do it at all.
toy
J May 2017
toy
you cannot twist
the bones
in my protruding spine
to get me to dance
anymore

you cannot turn me
on
or off
with your ***** hands
anymore

and leave me on the floor
when you are finished
when you get bored
anymore

I am not your toy
anymore
J May 2016
Please remember
You are not who left you
You are not who loved you and
you are not what stays and rots as you plant new roots for yourself

Please know
you are here to grow,
water yourself more
as the ground below
dries and takes your nutrients away

As you grow, I want you to remember this:
You are sunlight on a late morning in early May
You are fresh cut grass under rose pink toenails
You are the first sip of iced coffee in the morning as
your heart begs for that little burst of energy that tastes like candy

As you tend to your leaves please remember:
You are not days you do not shower,
you are not days you do everything right

You are the feeling of warm sheets at night
you are hope when faith has seemed to die
But you must be these things for yourself
Because you are not who left you when you thought you did everything right


Water your roots,
make sure you are weeding your own flowers so that you can grow tall and bring color to dreary settings that cannot contain you
J Jun 2016
I cut myself deep enough to see the bone when I was 16
I fell in love that year as well
They don't tell you what to do after you fall
Because they don't know how hard you will
I cut myself that night in July
I went so deep they had to put me on a lifeline
I am alive now
with skin made of steel
and no one comes in anymore
I fell in love
and you felt me up
you took away my right to say no
overcome with fear
I begged you to stop
they don't teach you how to tell someone
that this has happened before
and every single time
the strength it takes to say no
leaves your throat like a plague
fed by fear and starving for a sound
they don't tell you how hard it is to say no
with your mouth
when your head tells you to be quiet
and the man that haunts your ghostly body
tells you that he does it because he loves you
trigger warning: they don't give you a trigger warning before they hurt you

they just do
J Jun 2016
Sunshine fills my hollow bones,
I lay outside beneath the stars,
I learned to make this earth a home,
Founded it from broken parts.

Crosswinds get the best of me,
they direct me towards fledgling things,
I know not which road to take,
I fear a tragedy either way.

But Tuesday follows Monday's luck,
the fate that I had used up already.

I take the left road, I walk where I can see,
pause a time,
I bargain with destiny,
I know the path that is for me.

I let the sunshine fill my bones,
I learned to make this earth a home.
nature earth happy freeverse rhyming couplet jmk personal
J Jun 2017
do not use another's hands
to **** your own gardens


when the time comes for your flowers to bloom
you will gaze upon each petal in liberated peace
something you must do alone

do not use another's hands

that man is not your home
J Jun 2017
when he comes back to apologize
be sure to recognize if it comes from
his mouth or his eyes, my dear.
one is a trick and one is sincere.

a sorry from the mouth
projects blame on your heart
for being too loving,
for playing its part
a sorry from the mouth
will try to mend a reputation
rather than any pain he caused
with his years of manipulation

a sorry from the eyes
is a sorry from the heart,
he says sorry for being so cruel
and not doing his part
a sorry from the eyes
will feel like a kiss
just know you deserve this

when he comes back to apologize
be sure to recognize if it comes from
his mouth or his eyes, my dear.
one is a trick and one is sincere

you are worth an apology for what has been done
rather than what you have felt as a reaction
tell that sucker that you're not looking to mend
don't give him the satisfaction
J Jun 2017
wait until it hurts to write
and when it hurts don't stop
it's okay to feel everything,
all at once, scattered on paper,
it's okay to give your heart
the right-of-way, it's okay
wait until it hurts to write
and when it hurts,

heal with words
J Jun 2017
looking back
is not stepping down
do not mix up
regression and humanity

it's okay to love toxicity
it's okay to want it again
but remember how it felt
to have your walls crash in
you can yearn for the past
from the present
to smile and to laugh
but do so through rose colored glass
carefully; you are finally free
J Jun 2017
use his words as tinder
in the fire that drives you
each and every lonesome morning
bask in solitude,
discover you;
every sight and sound
you are not too much
to keep around
he was not enough
to hold on to you
use his fearful words
the ones that used to sting
as the very thing that drives you
to be bolder than you were before
he dulled you out
don't stop now
J Jun 2017
love is not patient
love is not kind

love is leaving
the very first time
he puts his hands on you
in a way other than to
worship the skin
that fosters your soul
love is knowing
you are worth more
J Jun 2017
do not say sorry
for being human
your forgiveness
is not a crutch
for him to lean on
it is a conduit
for the you
that can swim
across an ocean
alone
while he still hangs
on your ankles
do not say sorry
for being human
while you are still
learning how to do so
J Jun 2017
there is a time and place for sorrow
there is a time and place for anger
there is a time and place for laughter
there is a time and place for withdrawl

there is a time and place
to let your heart really break
so you can put it back together
but neither one is with him
J Sep 2019
Unattached narratives

Charlie makes the same face every time they tell a joke they know they probably shouldn’t. They shift their jaw a tiny bit to the left, their eyes to the right. They start to crack a smile, intermittently, but it doesn’t poke through easily. They don’t let anyone know they think they’re funny. But they know. They’ve made this face a lot lately, they seem lighter; they seem fuller. I could watch the same face and hear the same corny joke every day for the rest of my life, and laugh like it was new. I could watch them smile until my eyes burned out. I wanted this to be unattached but I feel their joy in my chest, and I’m so thankful for that. I’m so thankful for this.
J Aug 2016
I remember the first time you called me fat
I forgave you

And for that, I struggle to forgive myself

I remember the first time you called me annoying
My chest fell into my gut
The feeling of my stomach acid eating at the words I pushed back  down my throat with whatever simple starch I could salvage
Is something I'll always remember

I remember the first time you said I broke your heart
And just how mine stopped
And how in 3 weeks it'll be a year since I gave my body away to a stranger and you held it over me like a plague in medieval times would've spread across my weakened body
I remember it strongly
I remember our first kiss,
I remember our last,
I remember the day I knew I didn't love you anymore,
If I could get that feeling to pass,
Because it's unfair you're happy,
When I'm still stuck in January when you told me in bullet form everything I did wrong
And it didn't make sense how I tried to leave but you wouldn't let me
Nd then you left
It isn't fair
You're gone, you're there,
And I'm no one, I'm nowhere
J Apr 2019
I forced myself to sit and write about you because it hadn’t hurt in so long, and though I know that I am healed, sometimes I get scared of forgetting the way you used to make me feel like I was flying when we both know I was drowning. I don’t need that anymore but that high is unmatchable and I miss seeing the entire universe inside one person. So I forced myself to sit and think about you. To remember you. To dig down deep, way past my anger and look to the place where I first planted you. I needed to feel something so I went to that place and it all came rushing back at once.








I am abundant in forgiveness. You never apologized but I accept it anyway. I saw everything in you. My highs, my highs, my highs. Oh they were so golden. My lows, you picked me up from them every single time. I used the hell out of you and you let me. I know you wanted to save me. I know you loved me. I know that for you, being in love meant working on another person. We met the day after I was ***** and I carry that guilt on me like an armor, I wonder how hard I would have loved you if I didn’t need it. I forced myself to sit and think about you because I am doing it again.







I’m falling in love with someone new and it scares me to think that I could get that blind again. I could get that hollow and desperate. That small. That shallow. I let you teach me what I already knew. I forced myself to sit and think of you and I sat quietly as the anger passed through and the only thoughts left were harrowing and sad and blue and soft. You and I were best friends and I haven’t mourned that part yet because I only mourned the loud *** we had in every room in every building we went in. I mourned the laughter we shared until 4 in the morning. I mourned the way you looked at me like I lit up the room when I was so visibly tired.












I mourned everything but our friendship because I didn’t think it would ever end and when it did I couldn’t process it. I couldn’t handle the guilt. I couldn’t handle the way you checked out after one mistake when I spent 8 months letting you lower me into the ground without ever raising my voice.










I mourned my soul.
I mourned my future. I mourned my past. But I never mourned us because we were supposed to last. And when we didn’t, I felt my entire soul collapse. And I’m doing it again.







And I just thought I’d sit down and write you this and wonder if you could let me know what I could have done differently back then, so this time around I don’t do it again? I forced myself to think of you one last time so when the time comes to love this new person, I do it right and I don’t have to do this again. I wanted to hurt because I needed to remember how good it felt and how hard it was to let you go. I did let you go, and I write this 7 months later, in the spring, watching the sunset, full of light and gratitude, a whole winter has passed. I write this now in hopes that this new spring lasts. Will you write me back?
J Feb 2017
numb to pain
and what a sweet freedom she is-
liberation from sinful, teenage lust
broken from chains
that once held me to mountains
i climbed to prove my love

but i don't know her anymore,
i can't feel her anymore,
she left last year in a panic and
i remember watching her eyes fade
that time i told her i could hold her hand forever
love was scared to stay
and so i blocked her out
one brick more every time she left and came back


and now i see her on the street
everywhere, in new towns and old
but the world does not warm up when i spot her
i don't feel flutters in my stomach and
the sun does not shine brighter as she walks by
i simply smile to be polite
i don't know her anymore


numb to pain,
how lovely a skill
to detatch from everything you once loved
at the snap of a finger
and to watch the repurcussions crush worlds
without batting an eye- how graced to know pain enough to beat her
how lovely a skill
until you wish you could just feel something
anything, at least once more
sjdfhglfksdjgh
J Dec 2016
the birth rate is nearly 3 times that of the death rate
in today's day and age,
I find it amazing that we have
modern medicine
computers with brains
but nobody ever found a way to heal the pain of a
broken heart,
but it's funny,
for every one ending,
there's 3 brand new starts

maybe we don't get our hearts broken,
maybe they're reborn,
into something brand new,
innocent and warm
for every one death,
a new life begins
so what if that was the same
when we feel our world has caved in?
J Sep 2016
I wish
I could write
about anything
anyone
anywhere
other than you


*I am tired
J Oct 2017
Will you still be my better half
when I only seem to make things worse
? I only make things worse but my mind gets quiet when I’m trying to figure yours out, and I think that’s why I love you
J Nov 2018
I will let you go
So that we can grow
Separately on our own
It hurts to pull you through my fingers
But I need them back, I’ve seeds to sew
J Apr 2019
climbing through the wreckage
you left your clothes here on purpose
you said you wanted me to miss you
the plan was fool proof
i donated your clothes today
a sure fire way to rid my space of you
something it took me a year to do,
nevertheless, i do not miss you anymore
J Oct 2017
Picturing a life where
I am not in love with the sun
When we are together he resides
Inside my stomach and I need him
On my skin and against my lips
When we are apart I forget to breathe
I need him next to me and I lose control
Of emotions deeply rooted in affection
But played out like violin harmonies
In temperate weather under birch trees
Picturing a life where I do not feel everything and where I do not take neutrality as blasphemy
I do not feel my heart bleed each day
For something new because I am unattached
Especially from you
J May 2019
Every night I’d  fall apart in your arms
You were always one for puzzles
By morning I’d be Whole again,
I sleep  alone now, wake up still waiting
J Oct 2018
I am just
A willing fool
In love with you
My skin is yours
Your heart is mine
I love you, dear
For all time
J Dec 2016
Surrounded by people yet oh, so alone
It took me a month, 12 days and three hours to notice the hole
in my stomach from when you told me I deserved it.
Why is your voice, then, the one thing I wish yelled it?
The sorry sound of apologies I'll never hear,
the ones I make up just to rid of that shatter I feel in my spine everytime
I remember what you said to me April first before the line went dead,
Hell bent on apologies I fabricate and decorate with words my peers love,
to reinstate a relationship I all but deconstructed on my own,
so why am I alone?
Every mistake, I would blame everything you'd take, and I would give more.

I still have a bruise on my knees from the night I hit the floor.
I'd give until I had nothing left,
I have nothing left.

I'm a thief. Good at deceiving,
convincing everyone around who cares
I'm in a good place.
God, am I happy.
Convincing them I'm losing weight by eating clean and not because I lose my ******* appetite every time I remember you never missed me,
I don't sleep.

Why did it take a month to feel this hole consume me?
I'm empty
I wrote this in april and just found/revised it after a bad breakup
J Jan 2017
I'm sorry if I don't always make sense
I'm still trying to piece together memories I drank away last fall
through the puke on the floor I can still see last spring:
******* you on Easter when I was alone,
the night before screaming into my pillow until I couldn't see straight,
pretending to my family and friends that I hated you,
but wishing you'd have stayed later.
through the shattered mirror I smashed last fall I can still see last spring:
sending you letters that you never read,
smashing my head against the steering wheel,
driving without direction because you wouldn't be anywhere I went,
I still see last spring through the botched memories
and I still feel it every time hear our song and have to change the channel,
I still keep that flannel put away,
I know you burned everything of ours in the summer but I couldn't find the strength
J Jun 2016
Every argument was useless
you never heard a single word I said
and now I climb mountains
to get your voice out of my head
I'm still better off without you
so don't come after me
I'm climbing at a steady rate
and soon I'll reach the peak
J Jun 2016
I used to think that
what I saw when I looked into your eyes,
was the galaxy.
They were vast and dark and seemingly endless,
but they are not a home for me.

What I have learned is that
I was not seeing the sun and moon and stars,
I was seeing the boundaries that contained them,
and seeing limits and edges,
hard and abrupt.
I was not seeing expansion.
I was not seeing love.

Perhaps I was discovering what it means
to see the world through someone else's eyes.
And in someone else's eyes.

But in yours, I thought I saw constellations when
in fact I saw only recollections

They say when you see a star you're seeing the light from something that died thousands of years ago.
Perhaps it is the same for old lovers.
Maybe it was the same for you and me.
I vow I will never see the stars again in the eyes of a partnet,
but instead see things in which the life is still intact and in which I am not clinging on to something forever retracting.

I will see flowers,
trees,
weeds even,
life that may flourish and wither,
but at least I can nourish them back.

We as humans have yet to scrape the edge of the universe,
and that used to scare me.
I used to find comfort in knowing I was a part of yours,
Comfort came to me knowing I was safe in the world you built for me,
but I take it back.

The next person whose eyes I fall in love with might hold stars
they might sparkle and expand,
but they will not be my universe
when there is one inside me I have yet to dive into
when there is so much more for me to see myself
without your limits or your help
J Jun 2016
I have lost the sight of your yawns as they lengthen into sleep,
the smell of your skin when it is clean but free from cologne has lost me,

I have forgotten what it feels like to kiss you and see galaxies,
or feel bursts of energy, warmth and tragedy all at once, every time,
I have lost the rush in my bones reminding me that you were mine.

I tried to recreate the constellations your freckles used to make,
but I laid awake and could not see a single star.

That thought used to make me cower, even in my sleep,
and wither in my hollowed wake, but today I do not ache,
not even for you.

A point came where I could not feel at all but pain
But now I do not hurt at all.
This feeling is unfamiliar.
Foreign winds have replaced old currents that settled in one path too strong, and left me cold,
but they are now gone.

I had forgotten what it felt like to not be petrified of apathy,
to not be scared of forgetting the first night you took my body,
believe me, I thought I would never breathe the feeling of discovery again
after months of trying to replace the rushing feeling of breath on my skin,

But I tried tonight to recall details of those encounters,
the ones where you took my soul and I was not sure if I would get it back,

and I could not bring life to any of the memories I one time
feared would never die,

I have waited for this day and now I can finally say it.
healing from heartbreak
is more of a purge, a surge of emotions you cannot differentiate from real or fake as they take over your body,
and there I was, losing it all at once,
and I was left open on a stranger's bed, begging for a minute where
you did not fill my head,
appeasing to God for a day in which my heart did not bend at the thought of never experiencing a rushing heartbeat
without having to take off my clothes
again.

I was willing to give up anything for goosebumps on my skin,
anything to remind me that I was a human,
without you.

But I did it and I want you to know that,
I hope one day you see it because I finally truly feel it.

I do not love you anymore.
or miss you anymore,
I do not think of you when I think of love or *** or adventure anymore,
I do not see you when I picture late July days and sandy toes and sweaty palms from holding on too long,

my heart is free for the taking and I want you to know that,
though you will not care or look for me somehow,
I do not want you back anymore and I wish you could see me now,
J Feb 2017
you used me for ***
and I should be upset
but it's you I laugh at
because you ****** in bed
I faked every time
and I don't feel bad, not a bit
you used me for ***
just wished you'd be better at it
oops!!!!! boy, bye!
J Dec 2019
I will wade until my knee caps break
From the weight of the ocean
Month after month in the same exact place
I wish there was a way out

I can’t catch my breath at all from the last two years
And you can’t hear me screaming
It isn’t your job to, anyways
But I wish there was a way
J Sep 2016
I'm filling a void I can't identify
trying to make meaning of these wasted days
I waste away waiting for a sign
I'm not as dreadful as you made me feel
Part of me used to laugh
at the thought of letting someone else,
anyone else, besides myself
dictate how I felt
but now I struggle
to feel anything at all

I quit smoking
sure it made the haze in my head softer
and it was already hard to breathe before
but I didn't want the habit already stuck
when I finally stopped wanting to die
I wonder when that day will come
I won't start smoking again
Not because I have hope that it will stop raining
or visions of a clearer future
but because I know that nothing will fill this void
Especially not, now fading memories of a summer
and a lover
and a boy
J May 2017
I'm in love
And it's warm
I waited 567 days for this
Liberation in my veins
From icy rusted chains
I froze to death for this revival
J Sep 2016
tied down by chains
I welded myself
steel pricking into my irritated wrists
I am no martyr
I die for nothing
this is all I have to give
my own personal prison
I maintain the walls
I let this happen
I love the fall
J Dec 2016
I'm haunted by my mistakes
Every word venom in my mouth
they tasted bitter so I spit them out
and they hurt those around me
but I didn't care.

I dyed and cut my hair to play the part
of someone who moved on with an entirely untouched heart
it was blonde, then blue, green, and black
I cut enough off that you'd surely not come back
because you didn't like girls with short hair
I still don't care.

I'm haunted by my actions,
every move a cut deeper in my grave,
I hurt those around me in a viscious, Godly wave
Each time it crashed, I'd apologize, retreat
but would relapse, and get the same rush each time I would repeat
I'm haunted by that thought,
that I changed myself so much this year,
from gaining 40 pounds to starting to drink beer,
but I have not cleaned the cobwebs from my heart,
it's been 9 months and I am still torn apart.
Not from missing you, or heartbreak,
but from the repurcussions of these hideous mistakes,
the summer left those ugly scars that turn blue instead of white,
and I hurt too many people to even try to make it right
I wonder if I'll ever heal,
or change in ways inside,
because my hair is starting to break off,
with everything I use on it to hide
J Jan 2017
I don't miss ******* on your brothers bed, sweating on plastic wrapped mattresses,
Or hitting my head on the frame,
Hearing my name when you came,
Or laughing about getting caught too many times to count,
I don't miss wasting away on your couch, watching Game Show Network and eating takeout,
Or making out after fighting,
Or turning out the lights in the house to sneak by the rest of the family after ***,
I don't miss it but I digress
J Dec 2016
What I want in a lover
Is the excitement of a theme park
The calm of chamomile
The pain of a splinter
Reassurance of a nurse who can heal.
What I want in a lover is the
Crowd in my heart
When the chorus of a song comes on
I know from the start.
What I want in a lover
Is not money, clothes, a name,
But the incomparable solace
Of knowing I'm loved the same
J Jun 2016
What no one tells you about loving a writer,Is that they're nuts, man.They're slobs, they're hoarders, Have you seen my room? I barely have, to tell the truth.
Crumbled paper lines the floor, Ideas withering from the night before,
What no one tells you about dating a writer, Is that they're so moody.
We’ll try to play it off like some sort of
Artistic facade. Mysterious. Yep, that’s us!
But in reality, we’re probably just ******* wiped. We spent 3 days and 3 nights writing songs and painting pictures that you won’t ever see. And what no one tells you about dating a writer, Is that it is hard.
What no one tells you about loving a writer, is that they’re going to love you back. Hard. They might notice parts of you that you never have, they might focus in on each part and it might make you mad, But I promise they love every scar as much as they love every laugh. They might notice every freckle and how the ones on the small of your back, right there where you start to laugh when you get brushed by another, even lightly, make the little dipper, and how it might be cliche but it’s their favorite constellation. And they will try to connect the dots to make sense of your body, to create a solid thought.
Even if it does not come together like the stars in the sky, they will try and try and what no one tells you about loving a writer
Is that its hard. Remember what I said about us hoarding? We hold on to everything, letting go isn't something we do easily and we'll take in everything you say and do whatever we can to make you want to stay, we're messy, we're clumsy
we're odd but we will give you everything we've got. There’s a reason they have a desk full of half written poems, a reason they might feel so hard, they have a broken heart. Hearts that are whole don’t make art, We hate to admit it but it’s true so what no one tells you about loving a writer, is that you’re loving pieces. You’re loving Monday morning, Chaotic, panicked, angry, hungry. You’re loving Tuesday night, Tired, weary, shaky, sorry. You’re loving a Saturday afternoon when the week catches up and the bags under their eyes become a muse for a new piece they might spend weeks composing only to throw into the trash and what no one tells you about loving someone like that Is that it’s normal to throw away something that took so long to construct. But they won’t tell you that they’re used to that. What did you think made them write in the first place? They are used to that. Their whole lives have been building bridges with flammable wood Over barren lands. What no one tells you about loving a writer, Is that you’re loving two eyes, two hands, Two legs, two ears, and two lips but too many souls to try and control. Don’t try and control them, they’ll turn their back on you, they are conditioned to take their sorrows and turn then into words that can't be taken back, ones that make their spine stop chilling, Perhaps pass it on to another, what no one tells you about dating a writer, is that you will be that “another," you will have to absorb some of the energy, The forces that make these people soak up Every piece of sorrow in the world And make their heads heavy, And make their hearts scary, their hands shaky. What no one tells you about dating a writer, Is to be careful. They are broken and they cannot heal. Because they might stop creating, And their hearts might stop beating, Because their words bleed out of their skin, Their hands shape the world they’ve come to Live in, to love in, And their lungs are filled with every word you’ve ever said, And when you left, They took those words And wrote them down, And what no one tells you about dating a writer, Is that if youre not going to love the writer, At least give them something worth writing about. They will.
J Jun 2016
What we do in June
as the days stretch into sunsets,
gold stains our ***** skin,

What we do in June
as nights fill the shells that winter shaped,
we become reborn in the lake down the hill,
until we are ready to confess the secrets we will hide all summer,

What we do in June,
after laughter and drinks,
probably a few too many,
is create stories that some day we will lose,

and have to try to recreate in a series of words that
don't come close to the fun we had,
every night,
laughing until we ached,
thanking God for every day we have here,
where dirt gets under our nails and
our hair never had the time to dry in between
the pools we hopped,

What we do in June
is thaw
from a cold winter,
and warm our frozen bones,
and begin once again,
with a life full of things worth writing about,

What we do in June,
love, ***, trees, drugs,
our memories will fade,
but softly like the sunset into that one lake
where we all lost our virginities.

What we do in June is ours to keep,
it's ours to make
J May 2017
I said I wrote poems
N' that I've been stuck in time as of late
You said to write what I know
Who I love, who I crave, what I hate
N then they'll start to flow

I don't know,
But this: I am sick.
Of trying. Fighting. Loving.
I don't know,
But this: I am sick.
Of crying. Shouting. Hurting.
I don't know,
But of this: I am sick.
Of giving my all and getting none back.
I've got a world on my back and no ground below.
I know.
J Sep 2016
Where did you go?
Where have you been?
Does me crawling back mean that you really did win?
Where do I head?
How will I know?
What if I can't because this fog ties me to my bed?
Where did you go?
Why won't you come back?
J Jun 2016
I wonder
where does your heart lie?
where does the extra go
when it's time to put on a show?
You live as an emotional exhibitionist
but golden lips trump hollow veins
you only show the world
your trophies and save the rest
for your pillow
so I wonder
where does your heart lie?
Who scared you into thinking
emotions are for the weak?
That sadness reaks of vulnerability
and that missing someone is unspeakable,
I wonder,
where does your heart lie?
The soul you expose
for the world to know
is a sliver of the pieces
that make you whole
you show only gold
when copper lies below
and I wonder
where does the rest go?
u a lying *******
J Mar 2017
Why'd you have to
Show up on my comedown
And ask if you could hang around
Like old times, 4 years ago, flew somehow
Who was I then? Who are you now?
Why'd you have to
Show up on my uprising
And act so very surprised
To learn I was giving goodbyes
Did you think I'd wait forever?
Losing you was an endeavor I could not
Heal from, instead I had to run
And why did you have to ask me if
I was happy? Or if I was having fun?
Please don't pull me back
I've no time for your conundrums
Why'd you have to change for the good
Second guess the way I'm dodging you in this state I fell in and out of love in
All In a year
Why'd you have to come back here?
I felt so ******* strong
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