You might not ever know what I think of you
You might not ever love me.
I might not ever be able to hold your skeletal hands
I might not ever be able to call those boney shoulders mine.
This might be another failed and broken cycle.
This might be like every other crush I've had.
I might not ever show my true self to you.
You might not ever like it when I do.
I might have wasted a month of my time.
And you might not ever care.

Sent Jun 29th, 12:10am

i just want someone to want me
to fall in love with my personality
and not the temporary
aspects of me

We walked in and you were groggy
Laying in bed.
I wanted nothing more than to lay with you.
But instead I sat on the floor, pretending to admire the ceiling.

How ironic that you were wearing my favorite shirt of yours
White with blue and orange stripes.
It's the only thing about that evening that went as I had planned.
And even that was short lived.

Hayden felt at home and I felt alone.
Mike was somewhere in between.
I couldn't tell if you were surprised that I was in your room.
Maybe you were too tired to think.

But I wasn't.
So I sat there, next to the poster of Fergie
Pretending to admire the ceiling
Wondering if you'd let me clean the cobwebs in the corner.

It was a beautiful ceiling
Intricate and gold.
I couldn't imagine your room being any other way.
Fergie's *** was rubbing it in my face.

I followed everyone downstairs
they were waiting for a movie
but I was waiting for you.
I was afraid you had gone back to bed

You changed your shirt but didn't bother to fix your hair.
I like white button-ups
but not as much as the stripes.
You have very boney knees but I don't mind.

I wished I could say something clever like I  normally do.
But I just can't when I'm around you.
My thoughts were wasted or already used by someone else.
That was humiliating.

You wanted to drive with us to my house.
But you didn't bother put shoes on.
We held eye contact and it looked like you forgot how to smile.
That was the highlight of my evening.

"This house is beautiful"
was the first thing I said.
Hayden said something like "It's old as hell"
And you both went on to joke about the ghosts that built it.

It takes every fiber of my being not to message you.
I want nothing more than to recieve

Something simple
Something sweet
Something I can devour and eat

That little green light that tells me you're there
makes me want to rip out my insides
and cut off my hair.

And just like that you're gone.
Not a message or beep.
Not a like on my status
or theoretical tweet.

You don't comment or post
You don't now how close
I am to losing my mind
over this boy
who's too skinny and uses chap-stick all of the time.

Just like that you're gone.
And I'm singing the same **** song
About the tall cynical boy
Who keeps me up all night long.

you've got me sitting
alone
in my room
listening to the music you like
trying to figure you out
trying to decide if you like me
if you want me

my mother says
"he probably doesn't know either"

and i'm frustrated
because someone has to
someone has to understand
and i don't
and i have to
i have to understand
you're a puzzle i can't solve
is this something i'm doing to myself?
nothing is as analytical as i need it to be
your tones of gray are confusing me
and i can't find a way to organize
the things you say to me

but to say i don't enjoy the task
would be a lie
because it does, in fact,
make me feel alive
i want you to want me,
that's very true
but it won't be easy
to convince me
that it's okay to want you

I hope the day comes when I can tell you

That I want to be the one that makes your hands stop shaking

Or your lips stop cracking

I want to tell you how good you look in your recessive genes.