I think I fall in love with the idea of people more than I fall in love with the real them. I have no idea if the girl with auburn hair and pretty blue eyes paints under the stars but I can vividly see her doing it and a part of me falls in love with a version of her that likely doesn’t exist. My best friends brother is just a guy with a love for Studio Ghibli movies and a knack for making people laugh. This doesn’t stop me from imagining the long nights we’d spend on his couch discussing Morrisey. I don’t know how to differentiate heart from mind, poet from person. I often question if I’ll ever be able to love someone without painting them in a light they don’t belong in. Is this how it will always be? Questioning every feeling I have, analyzing whether I love someone for the person they really are or if I’ve written them into the poem I want them to be. How do I know that my feelings are genuine when I have a habit of turning every person I meet into a love poem?

I guess it is a relief to see you
Again, my old friend. Cloaked, your head of blue,
You wander among the graves like fireflies,
Absolute darkness, jittering night skies.  
It never seems to fail to startle my
Child-like sensation of life passing by.
Orderly rows, rigid cartridge paper,
Ink and tax reports, functions to cater.
Misanthropic, naïve, idealistic
Degenerative and narcissistic,
Paranoid, poisonous, parasitic
Fear giver. Fear receiver. Entropic
Skeleton, dancing in caustic acid,
Looking on. A quiet, forlorn Aphid.

wee bit of innocence,
left upon the rampant
running blindly with an open shield
to find self confidence
some shred of assurance of guidance
praying you'll prey in place of the prey
...
in this world, this world,
this cruel, cruel, wild, world...

Pupils beamed with radiance,
and naive genuineness flowed
as the illusion of love came her way.

But behind the tugging of strings
was a skillful maneuver
with his foxy intentions.

As the strings were played
back and forth,
emotions began to be strangled
and the cords that were struck
created a melody
to the tune of his accordance.

The fortress began to whither
but he was tired of his own maneuvers
that he gave into dispelling his intentions
before the frontier guarding her heart collapsed.

Though the barrier to intimacy
did not collapse completely,
the intention of ones kindness broke,
the illusion of ones amiable action broke
as it became the an act
just to open the gate of letting one in.

Trust withered,
but hope seemed to still be lingering
as the good in them, she always saw.

But after multiple tries,
of her heart being played with.
It was locked,
to the ones who would come along.

I thought we would be it...
I was positive you were my forever.
How Naive.
I was willing to to overlook your past
Everyone deserves a second chance right?
Little did i know this was now your 20th chance.
You will never be able to let go of your past, too much damage has been done.
What hurts the most is how well you did at pretending.
Pretending you were capable of giving me all of you...
You had ever inch of my heart, body and soul.
How Naive.

oh, don't act so naive
how ignorant you pretend to be
the lies you tell for just one kiss
you remember what they told you was bliss
to tell the truth i wish i was like you
i want to be happy, too

I want to trust, I want to believe
But I can't shake the feeling that it makes me naive
I hate to be laughed at, I avoid the crowds
My self-deprecation is already too loud
Multiple times my heart's been broken
Yet I still hand it out to others like a token
Of how much I love them and how much I care
But they take it and break it, it doesn't seem fair
Each time it happens, it's a new hole in my heart
What do I do with these feelings that tear me apart
They tell me hiding from others is no way to live
But I'm just trying to protect what little I've left to give