i've been out of love for so long i no longer remember
what romance feels like
i used to yearn for it, and sometimes i still do
but right now, it makes me feel sick.

the cute kitchen boy asked me out for drinks tonight.
he has bright eyes and an innocent face and blonde hair
and probably a pure heart.
at first i said "sure!" but then as soon as i walked away
i went into full fledged panic mode
because he probably wants to go out with the girl
he thinks i am, the girl i portray myself to be:
cute, sweet, giggly, innocent, exciting.
i mastered the art of hiding the ugly parts a long long time ago
and i fool everyone i meet.
it's entertaining, and perhaps a little sad, but
it's the truth and i've begun to find comfort in it.

because the walls that surround my heart
have grown very very high, and i am simply not willing
to give someone the power of tearing them down again.
loneliness is more of a friend than anything, and besides,
everyone leaves.
trust has ran out of my repertoire, let alone vocabulary.

i'm just not in the mood
for the falling and the giggling and the touching and
the rush of endorphins and the disappointment and seeing
their sad reactions when i show the person my ugly insides
i'm just not up for
the leaving and the breaking and the wish-you-were-staying
and the mess and the withdrawal.
i do not want to add onto the list of the things i miss.
i'm getting good at going without
and i don't want to mess that up anytime
soon.

i'm ******* fragile and terrified and probably a coward
i'd rather sit at home and stare at a wall
or read a million books
or cry myself to sleep
than let someone in again.

i've been
reading poetry
ee cummings and--
sylvia plath
pretty pools of words filled with color

--and ducks

charles bukowski is a
***** old man
lots of ***** old
words
and images
but real dirt, not pretend
real's so hard to find
these days

they talk about love like it's
broken--painful--deadly--
always wonderfully beautiful
(like the beautiful snake whose
poison's killing you)

that's not
love

because it's falling asleep with warm breath on the back of your neck and your bed a little too small
because it's laughing so hard that you almost snort macaroni and cheese out your nose
because it's doing laundry and pausing just to notice how your clothes smell like her
because it's waiting alone, imagining how big you'll smile when she comes back - it's always bigger than you think.
because it's knowing that the pain's not part of love, it's part of being human

they don't know
nearly as much as they
think--
they do

i love--
baseball in the park when it's not too hot
(I play shortstop)
chocolate ice cream cones in the hot sun
(dripping down my hand)
flying kites in autumn winds
(the falling leaves make the difference)
sledding through the snow
(and crashing into snowbanks)

i love--
coca-cola
(in the glass bottles)
root beer
(with vanilla ice cream)
7-up
(it's better than sprite)
mountain dew
(caffeine!)

i love--
you
(and the soapy smell after you shower)
you
(making me laugh more)
you
(how much you care about people)
you
(and you let me, too)

that's my proof they
don't know
(what
they're talking about
that is)
so--
i think poetry
is overrated