i’m the kind of girl
who leaves dying flowers on my desk
because i can still find beauty
in the withering petals

i hope you’re the type of boy
who will remind me
to put water
in the vase

i want to ask you about your past,
but at the same time i don’t
because my stomach becomes
more knotted than my hair
after a long windy day at the beach
when thinking of a you
before me

i try to keep my mind from drifting
to the image of you holding her hand
and gazing into her eyes,
thinking about how her smile
is the reason
you smile

it hurts imagining
there was anyone before me
and i’m sorry,
because i know how unfair that is

i guess i’m just afraid
there was something in her
you’ll notice is lacking
in me

i want to take the bits of you i love
and press them like flowers
between the pages of my favorite book

and i want to take all the scraps
that you dislike in yourself
and display them on my refrigerator
to show you i’m still proud
of the person you are
and the person you are becoming

but most of all, i want to spin you like a globe
and drag my finger across till it stops
to discover the pieces of you
that you’ve yet to reveal to anyone else

i want to wrap them up in linen
and place them in an old cigar box,
i’d tuck it away safely
in the top drawer of my bedside table,
so you know i’ll never let
those pieces of you go

because when you share
hidden parts of yourself
with someone else,
you’re trusting that person
to hold the secret sections
of your heart
and to love the bits
you thought
were unlovable