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I think everything starts of strong,
too strong. I think it began with the epiphanic violin solo, that breathed you aren't alone; even though, I feel so alone.
while we walked through the museums and I stood in front of Van Gogh's Irises and you said that I looked like I belonged there, I belonged everywhere. I think my love for you began to blossom on the nights in late May, in your car listening to Morrissey while you were smoking your favorite cigarette. I laid in the seat being ****** into eternal darkness. I constantly thought of Madisen Kuhn's words, while they lingered in my mind: “everything you’ve ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been,”

She said that my love for you isn't organic, my love isn't unique- but I promise you it is, My love for you could never be expressed fully through words. So I will tell you this, I love you,
for who you are. I love your favorite cigarette, I love the irises we spent hours looking at, I love who I am with you- I feel real, I feel alive. You make me feel alive.
 Sep 2017 Idiosyncrasy
Nathan
You're a dream
That crawled into my bed
And never came true

You're a laugh
          About to burst into tears

What you are
          Is vague
                And beautiful
3am
why are you still up?
you asked.
i can't sleep
i replied.

but what i wanted to say,
is that i think you're dangerous.
not the life-threatening kind,
but the thought-consuming,
all encompassing,
can't-sleep-because-of-you,
dangerous kind of way.

for someone like me,
who loves sleep,
that alone is pretty dangerous.
she gave you a wave,
but you're worth
all the oceans in the world.

she gave you a seed,
but youre worth
gardens and gardens of flowers.

imagine how
you were deeply happy with portions.
well i am here, willing to give you completion.

perhaps the worst thing to realize,
is that you still prefer parts of her,
than the entirety of me.
26 | 31 Poems for August 2017

These pictures sharpen the edges of blunt memories.
All I ever wanted was for you to feel my words like Braille.
But somehow you were blinded by the sight of someone else’s love.
All I ever wanted was to be the poem written on the pages of your soul.
I constantly keep reminiscing about the days when I used to feel whole.
Whenever I’m feeling low, I get high off the thought of blunt memories.
I need love and freedom – I need to let you and all our memories go.
Our love is as deep as the ocean but I can no longer go with the flow.
I may never find a reality worth dreaming about if my heart is filled with doubt.
All I have left are these pictures of you that slowly sharpen the edges of our blunt memories.
If your blunt ever lasts longer than our conversations then I hope you’ll get high off the thought of you and me.
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