I don't love you
but
I don't have the heart
to tell you that
I never do
so instead I wait
and hope
that every argument
every kiss
every hug
will be the last

why do
my shorter poems
get more attention
then my long ones
I think
you
are
all
just
a
bit
l a z y
(it's ok though because so am i)

you have talons attached to your hands
has anyone ever told you?
you tear the flesh from my dreams
leaving behind nothing but a dead carcass
you have knives for words
Do you know?
every word is a searing slice
your aura is a black hole
cant you tell?
the way it ***** in the light that is my happiness
and diminishes it into nothing within seconds

to be young
and free
what I would give
I am already young
I've heard 18
is a such a tender age
I've heard
that it's ok
to fall in love
with everything
to stay out at night
to watch the sunrise
what a beautiful philosophy
if only I was free
but I am not
the chains that hold me
are too strong

I want
to wear white flowing dresses
and crowns of flowers
as I float through a beautiful
meadow
I want you to see me
and sigh to yourself
how ethereal
I want
to wear a black leather jacket
and ripped jeans
I want to ride around
on a roaring motorcycle
through the streets
of a busy city
I want
to wear big glasses
and Dutch braids
sitting in a cofee shop
reading a book of poetry
or a classic novel
I want you to glance
at me through the dusty window
and fall in love
I want
to wear messy buns
and bright clothing
and blue overalls
forver stained with
acylic paint
I want my smile
and chirpy voice
to brighten someone's day
but I am
wearing blue flannel
gazing out my classroom window
messy hair
chewed sleeves
writing about the lives
that could only belong
to characters
in a story

we are liars
we are lovers
we are adventures
we are books
with millions of stories inside
we are fighters
we are criers
we are mistakes
things that weren't
suppose to happen
we are watchers
we are waiters
we are hunters
in a great jungle
we are murders
we are witnesses
we are martyrs
standing up
for what we believe in
we are smart
we are young
we are human
that, we are

you're almost as hollow
as the water bottle beside you
so hollow in fact
that when someone whispers something in your ear
it bounces off your insides
and back outside your mouth
your rumors
are never true
rumors aren't supposed to have
a fiction section you know
I know things about you
things no one else does
but I won't tell
because if I did
me and you
wouldn't be any different