but some nights i just think too far ahead,
i just think too much at once,
about things that don't matter,
things that aren't happening yet,
what-ifs and why-nots and
holy **** i love you
and i know i told you i'd message you before i'd cut myself again,
but **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

DO YOU GET IT???
I fall hard
and I fell for you
so for the next whoever-knows-how-long
I will be wishing to be a plant on your windowsill
or your favorite pillow
or the mug you drink out of every morning.
I wish I was the hat on your head
or your bass guitar
(I want you to pluck me, strum me, touch me)
I want to be your computer chair
maybe the pencil you use to take tests with.

I will wish I was something you'd keep around
something simple you don't think too much about
something you know you've got and you know you want
I will be wishing

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LOVE AND IN LOVE:

-love is good and kind and permanent. love is your mother clothes-lining you when she hits the brakes too hard, it is your dog greeting you at the door when you come home
-in love is temporary and powerful and like ******* lightning. in love is a teenage boy with blue eyes that life will force you away from, but **** his bed sure was comfy, and so were his arms and his words.

people **** and die over both

i've written some great things
about feelings i don't remember
and people i no longer talk to or think about
and i am afraid
one day
all i'll have of you
are the poems i wrote
(but don't remember writing)

i just don't feel at home at my house-
i'm sorry mom, it's not your fault-
I just don't think I'm the type who feels like i fit
outside of the people i've been surrounding myself with
my friends are a family, too, you know?
and that's where i feel like
it feels like home

please don't look at me (look at me more)
I will never believe you when you say I am your favorite
(I know too well the cruelty of this world
because I have been that cruel)
I have built my happiness into yours
I've put my smile in the palm of your hand and I'll let you punch walls
with my lips still inside your clenched fist
and none of it is preventable or your fault.
People are made to break things,
and I'm pretty sure you are in my life
to be the first one to break my heart.

So please do it,
break my heart,
but leave it shattered
the way a vase shatters when a girl throws it against a wall
the way you sometimes shatter our silence with sweet words
like "you're so beautiful"

i think i am afraid of missing someone forever.
i seem to think that once i say goodbye, even on good terms,
i will never see any of them again
and that terrifies me
because i don't want to make new friends
if that means i have to lose my old ones.
(i'm afraid to say goodbye to you, ever
because i am ******* terrified i'll always miss you)

i guess it feels like i'm staring at a blank wall
and someone with a lab coat and clipboard is standing behind me,
saying, "you have to cover it completely"
and i just sit on the floor and look at it,
my hands empty
my thoughts racing
"cover it with what?" I ask
"I have nothing.
I have no materials to use"
But she just shrugs and writes something down
and I start to sweat and panic
because what is she writing
and what am i supposed to do
How can I cover a ******* blank wall
when my HANDS ARE ******* EMPTY?

why am i here
why are any of us here
why do we assume there's a reason at all
to ponder and tear our hair out over?

why do i feel like the world closes in sometimes and whispers in my ear,
"you're making the wrong choices
you're doing all the wrong things
you're heading the wrong way"

oh my god
my time is running out and I don't know which turn to make
THE LIGHT IS GREEN
THE LIGHT IS GREEN
BUT I WON'T STEP OFF THE BRAKES
BECAUSE WHERE THE HELL DO I GO

I SHOULD HAVE INVITED YOU IN

wish i could tell you that i understand your rubik's cube mind
but the colors keep bouncing around
and i'll never match them up

but i fully believe that some puzzles are prettier unsolved

i know my writing is going down the drain
(i write too much, i write too often)
but **** I HAVE TO WRITE DOWN HOW MUCH I LIKE
running my fingers down your bare back in the seat of my car
resting my head on your chest and feeling your breath
I have to write down how moments with you feel wonderful
and...better.
it's all basic, it's all general
i'm not relating your eyes to the moon
because when the moon is right above us and we could look up and see it
I'd still rather look into your eyes sometimes.

I don't always have flow, no rhythm, no new metaphors
but every night you smile is ******* magical
(no new words)
and i just feel like i need to type it out

so yeah my writing is ****, it always will be,
but tonight I am glad
that my order of words may not be pretty,
but I get to write about something beautiful
(your lips wanting to be on mine)

I'm not really into tradition
Except the tradition people like us have of
breaking tradition.
My eyes aren't quite adjusted yet
but god it's easy to focus in on you

don't worry about me in thunderstorms
i've learned to inhale the lightning
to gasp-in every raindrop that falls
to clasp each clap of thunder in the palm of my hand
i've learned to put my head to your chest
when i am having a nightmare.

that's the sad and tragic thing about people who feel compelled to write things down -
we spend a lifetime trying to figure out the right way to explain what it felt like to look into his ******* eyes

and all he did was look through mine

when i'm next to you in your bed and i'm not even tired
it's usually no problem getting to sleep
when i'm ******* exhausted on my couch by myself,
i toss and turn for hours

this is *******

i'd like to delete everything i've ever written
exchange it for something more poetic,
like a code he'll never figure out, but keeps trying to
like a picture of a lighter being held close to my wrist
but we all know i can't bring myself to let flame touch skin
like a wish
that i'd never learned to write or think or feel
in the first place

not sure about much
not sure about anything, really
not sure of the last time you weren't floating around my head
wish I thought of myself as much as I think of you

****

being 18 will not last
and i know relationships hardly do in this situation
(even if we want them to)
because we will "grow up" and leave
and everyone will tell us it'd be stupid to not head in opposite directions
but ******* i like heading into your arms
and
what is so wrong with that

I'm not sure I ever loved him
I loved who I thought he was
I loved the idea of love
I loved the comfort
but it couldn't have been love
because his eyes never made me feel the way
yours do

(love is terrifying, not comfortable. love is tender and soft but horrifying)
(love is knowing this will hurt but convincing yourself it is worth it)

love is when you whisper in my ear something like, "I'm just trying to explain how much I like you. I like you sooo much. I could live with you. I just want to kiss you and talk with you and just lay with you if you don't feel like talking, I want to adventure with you. I just....I don't know."

Maybe love isn't real, and who cares
your "I don't know" is enough for me

I don't know either

I was going to end it at one poem,
that one sentence (i swear)
but something about your hands tonight were magical
i've never wanted someones contact so constantly
just skin on skin, eyes on ******* eyes
just let me see you
and feel you
be around you
know you exist
you ******* know i exist.
-
human connection is more important than tornadoes
than earthquakes
than tsunamis and mudslides
human connection makes dying worth a wait

your "i'm really happy"
makes me
******* ecstatic

even dark cemeteries and UFOs
flashing lights in the night skies and 'keep out' signs...
even strangers and guns and things that frighten me
if you are heading toward them,
i will follow

time is weird because i can't remember what it looked like to look at the first boy i kissed
time is weird because i can't remember feeling his arms
time is weird because it doesn't matter now

DRINK COFFEE AND READ POEMS, talk more often, maybe even to a therapist. let yourself be heard and seen, let him ask you questions, let yourself ask him if he wants to go look at the stars with you but don't let yourself think about it too much if he says no

-I hope you know how often I want you around.

-Let me stay a little longer.

-I'm so happy you came, you're here, I'm so happy when you are.

-I like you so much I often think it must be love (but I don't care what the feeling is called).

I am always writing down a bunch of stupid drafts and blueprints
just to write **** down.
I don't want this as a reminder,
I don't want to talk about it,
I don't want to look at it too many times,
but I'll let you read it and you can think what you want of all of these things you'll grow tired of
(me, soon you'll get tired of me, and you'll be especially tired of me saying you'll get tired of me.)

maybe one day i'll pick up smoking
but i don't like the idea of getting hooked on something to the point of dependency
which is pretty ******* funny because
i got hooked on you pretty quickly
and i bet trying to quit
will do more damage to me than a ******* cigarette ever could

found a boy who makes love feel like speeding through a red light at an intersection
who reminds me of racing down the highway
windows down, hair blowing across my vision.
he and i could be a car crash
or a parking spot
he and i are 90mph on the freeway
yet when he holds my hand or brushes the hair out of my eyes
i swear the brakes hit themselves
and speed and light and time don't matter

i know i don't know the right things to say
i'm sorry for trying
you're the one who always somehow spits the right thing out at the right time
i'm the one stuttering and babbling in the corner with my hands on my head
clock ticking on my tongue
counting down time bombs
for when the wrong words will erupt out of me
(an explosion, even though it's a whisper)

when we went to the county fair
you felt ill after a ride
and as we walked from the blinking lights
and screaming kids
you told me, next to our buddies,
how much you liked listening to me on that ride
the noises i made at every unexpected toss and turn
not really screams, but...
"i just like your company."
-the simplest things you say and do
-make me the wildest for you

slowly swallowing
throwing out the rest
my good days end in quiet protest
mind against heart
heart beating my ribs
I never quite figured out how to blend in

but I can live happily on the outside of the lines
with you

-I could probably make a lot of new friends right now, friends for the night. high me iss so good at talking
-what was the last thing i texted? I hope i didn't send that to you
-I want to show you these sometime so ewe can laugh at how stupid high i was. but i feel like you'd disapprove of this or something. if you were here i'd like this dream more. is this a dream?
-But my heart is in my throat and everything feels fake or too real, way too real and i bet i'm super annoying to you.
-I looked in the mirror and saw my mouth smile but i thought it was open and blank
-Feels like there are strands of hair covering my eyes and half of my brain is stuck between each rib i think i could reach down my throat and feel it
-Can't tell if we crashed and are riding to find out what exactly happens when you die
-can't remember if bailey actually ever decided to like me or i've just been pretending he does maybe i have been dreaming
-eww if i let him read this i'll regret it and he'll think i'm lame
-Eeven more now because i said that hahah
-Brush my teeth, go ***, wash my face, ibuprofen, don't grab your lighter to your skin, go to bed, fall asleep, wake up without the lag
-God life is weird i don't know what i want out of life "you can choose what you do with your life, but you can't choose what life does with you."
-I bet *** right now would feel amazinggg right now in his room on the floor probably
-My eye sockets look and feel sooo deep/far back and have i ever moved from this spot in front of the mirror
-**** me for sending you messages tonight ahhh it's probably too much ahh i feel annoying
-Wait did i send you those messages did i write tht down what have i been thinking (god what have you been of me)
-I wish you had gone to the party, all those guys would have loved you. there was jamming and everyone was as drunk and friendly as the guy you met camping that oput his cigarette in between the strings of your guitar
-ask bailey to Go to hector's falls and the observatory on wednesdays where you can see Jupiter at
-The puppet can't pull its own strings but **** am i trying to

**** that night we snuck out to sit in the freezing cold wet grass
just so we could kiss a bit
should be enough proof
that little things are worth it
(your eye contact and lips)
(holding your hand)
(running my fingers through your hair)
enough proof that with the right people,
times that would have been ******
become magical

tell the boy to wait up
you've got to sneak in a kiss
before he forgets the color of your eyes
and that once he thought they were pretty

you don't walk all over me
but I lay myself out like a carpet at your feet,
I spread out right in front of you,
right in your path,
right where you're headed
and maybe sometimes
occasionally
you'll step on the corner

most of my feelings are pointless insecurities that i'd be better off shaking out
BUT REMINDER:
AT LEAST I AM FEELING

and to be completely honest
things are never picture perfect
things never end up movie-like
our lives don't have automatic background music
and your palms will get sweaty if you hold his hand for too long.
sometimes you'll **** during ***
or you'll snort when you laugh
sometimes you'll cry when you don't mean to.
plans will fall through
or you'll be too sad to make plans
and most days you won't wake up stunning
even if you're waking up beside someone you want to look pretty for

but we keep on hoping

i appreciate having your hand to hold when
there are needles in my neck,
when time moves in ways i can't comprehend,
when the floor is slanted and my eyes are half-closed,
when my mind is at all even a little out of control...

being an adult feels like a joke
as if cigarettes or **** will change much
as if lotto tickets and *** and no driving curfews
will make me feel mature enough
to be considered an 'adult'

but being 18 feels pretty alright so far,
spending my first day of this new age
with you

god the way you say my name
(or anything)
is the reason i feel compelled to write the way it makes me feel

if i don't write it down
what if i don't remember it
(holy **** i'll remember it)

i'd like to start an adventure
to start a time in my life
where i stop caring and thinking
and start moving and going
and telling you what i mean

yeah, the ocean will be there tomorrow,
but we know our sunken chests and fluttering hearts
might not make it in time for the view

you make me feel good and ******
safe and terrified
comfortable and insecure

you make me feel so much more than i ever thought i'd feel before

Be real and let me tell you that you're who I wake up wanting to see
-
You're who I want to joke with and explore with and listen to music with and have tons of *** with
You're who I think of when I am singing in the shower

//my feet smell
//my head hurts
//i wish i was with you

I feel so light-weight and gleaming
I feel like I know how to love
but I don't exactly know what love is
(I don't think I really care)

I'm glad you're you and I'm glad you're here
and I hope that you like me even when I am honest

who wants to come over and suffocate me in my sleep tonight
i am tired of being a person
sometimes all i want is to drown and sometimes it is my biggest fear

i'm sorry
i don't really know why
but i am just so insecure that sometimes i am sorry that you talk to me
sorry you listen to me
sorry you say you like me
sorry for the day you won't like me anymore

bored as ****
so i bite my nails to the rim
and pretend that maybe you like it when you look at me

just wondering if maybe i could be the small gust of wind that blows through your hair one day when you're happy