I never heard of
stories larger than skies,
but yours differ,
I want to explore
a galaxy made from
your broken boulevards
I boarded your ship,
and sadly realised
I wasn't your
ideal co-pilot

The eyes you stared
aren't the same shade,
the hands you held
aren't the same size,
your heartbeats
aren't the same rhythm,
and with that,
I'll never replace her

Octothorp had never thought
her day would finally come,
but she gradually found
she was drawn centre stage
and the source of laughter and fun.
But even as she was prefixed
to all kinds of wit and quick banter,
her name was dumbed down,
she soon lost her crown
to 'hash-tag' the younger pretender.

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/octothorpe

The hardest part of all of this is that you were not just the first person I was in love with, but the first thing I've ever loved at all. I think everyone needs to love something to be happy in life, and some people love their jobs, or school, or their home, or even themselves, but for me it was only you, and I don't know what to do now. I keep having dreams of people asking for my commitment and in those dreams the first thing I think about is when and how I will leave them. I keep having flashbacks to that evening we had dinner at the European brewery. You were joking about how if we ever broke up I would spend the rest of my life trying to replace you but I would never succeed. What if you were right? What if you were it? What if I am never able to love anyone else again?

Not as sweet, but
hits the spot
on this rainy
Summer’s eve;
underneath the
bursting clouds,
taste buds
seeking a release.

Need a little
pick-me-up,
a familiar medicine,
satisfaction guaranteed,
with a lenient
return policy.

Finally, you feel her
shape, unseen
on the bottom shelf:
a natural alternative
to the sugar you can’t
have.

To the girl that now holds
every last bit of my happiness between her fingers,
i have a box that belongs to you too now,
i guess.
It's nothing special
it's just filled with all the roses
he planted in my brain in place of pain
and cocoons of the butterflies that continue to flutter
against the fences of my stomach
that have yet to hatch
and managed to survive
the avalanche of  
your arrival

You said you couldn't make love
to me that day
Afternoon had slipped away

Did you ever?
make love
Had you raised an arm?
in bath water
an unattainable charm

Between thumps and pushes
growns and growls and snaps
leaves turn under bushes
Invoking ritual perhaps

No memory softer touch
No yearn for less your spanks
For all this blank intention
I still give you my thanks