you teach me on a daily basis
that i do not have to chase perfection
to the corners of existence
to the places where reality and dreams mix and mingle
and that beauty is present
even where the mirror on the back of my door cannot show it
you laugh when i criticize myself
because you do not understand where i derive these insecurities from
you simply say,
"but you're beautiful"
and i offer a small smile in return
that stare of yours pierces me to the very core
drags me by the forearm, dances me around, and devours me whole
all i can see are your hands and i find myself retracing the paths they have taken across my skin
and im grazing my own lips, trying to recount every single time they've come in contact with yours
you may not explicitly create a sense of self-worth
inside my twisted little head
but you remind me with every passing day
that i can find it somewhere deep inside myself
and so i do

his crown is nothing more
than a head of messy brown hair he obsesses over
and his throne is just a desk that is always right next to my own
or the driver's seat of a silver honda civic, depending on the time of day
i twist words for him in every single waking moment
with pen in the margins of my philosophy notebook,
with the little voice in my head in the crevices of my mind,
and with my fingers on all my favorite spots of his skin.
i stand at his side, day by day,
simply observing, taking note, remembering the words and the gestures and the glances
so that future generations will recall the story
of his gloriously troubled beginnings
this king, this boy that you all write off as a pretender,
a usurper
he does rule
one kingdom
one tiny, minuscule, banal, five-foot-tall-redheaded kingdom
me
and one day my king will rise
he will rise, he will conquer, and we will be victorious
he will lead this kingdom that adores him so
and i will follow him into the war
that will either break us or entwine us
because i know that his majesty won't let
his kingdom fall

i forgot how much i love
being in a loud house
where everyone runs about
taking care of their own business
your brother weaves in and out of your room
where you and I curl up on your couch
playing video games and howling like hyenas
your parents' voices sound
footsteps resonate from above our heads
as your sisters arrive home
and start their respective afternoon rituals
and i hear your mother's voice
and the pipes creaking as someone runs a sink upstairs
and your doorbell rings and it doesn't echo
all the sounds...
i stand off near the door
when you tell your father we are leaving
because this isn't my world anymore
but for some unknown reason
i feel at home

We're breaking the rules
One judge says I'm wrong
That I'm the evil mastermind concocting our crimes
One tells me it's your fault
You're the one with something to lose
but still making the mistakes
(Is it even a mistake?)
The jury stands watch from the sidelines
And they whisper the questions amongst themselves
("What are they doing?")
We stand in the center, undivided by blame and fault
We're in this together
Fingers intertwined (behind our backs)
Because the third judge is watching
Eyes like slits, she's reaching out for your hand
("Childish boy, I don't care what you want!")
But that hand, the boy who tells me of his love for October and how bored of people he is, it's all mine
You hear that? You're mine.
The judges' decrees don't mean a **** thing
When each silent look we exchange gives me more reason to fight
("Nothing, just glad I have you.")
I may have broken laws with you
but it doesn't feel as wrong
nor as beautiful
as breaking the rules

don't let yourself fall in love
with that boy who plays bass
whispers jokes that make your face go red from not being able to breathe
and immediately holds you the day you come back
don't hang onto his every word
nor take note of the way his eyes catch fire
like a sheet of paper over an open flame
every single time he tells you how much he adores to make music
don't let his mannerisms dictate you
when his arms find you on a daily basis
when you ignore the teachings about diffraction and ray diagrams
just to listen to whatever is on his wonderfully, woefully confusing mind
because soon enough
you'll be writing him poems online using a fake name
and staying up till four am
thinking about how his voice cracks and quivers when he sings seven nation army
about how excited he gets to play you something he has written
about the sideways glances he gives you when you try to get his attention
about the places his hands reside every single time he touches you
and about the way his lips tasted like starburst jelly beans and cherry pepsi on that sunny wednesday afternoon
he completely inverts your perception of the world
and now matter how much you want to
don't
fall
in
love
with
him.

i know you're hopeless
i know, because i was there
because i've felt this emptiness you're now grappling with
i know how it feels to sit alone
on the floor of your room gripping tightly to the warmest jacket you own
sobbing silently into the fabric
for fear that your mother might hear you
but spring comes again and it will be just as beautiful
as it always is
don't accept that this is your forever
the sadness will linger,
but
you
will
recover.