i look at you in the bookstore and you’re reading poetry connecting us to galaxies. we’re calling it research but we’re just dissolving in a chemical wash of emotions.
yesterday. we weren’t always this close and i never took the time to find out why.
today though. we walk together towards something we’re not sure of. we’ve changed but i love who we are.
and the girls who crumpled in a fire–of mental illness, abusive men, afraid of who we were, and wallflower tendencies–found each other.
nothing is more powerful than us walking down to graduate together. here, with healthy relationships, loving men, unashamed of our quirks, and conquering our wallflower personalities.
that’s a chemical equation even i know could burn you if you handle it wrong.
i smile at you in the bookstore and grasp your hand. i am holding onto this moment.
my stardust girl.
i didn’t think of you first
i told everyone that from the beginning
but no one listened, and now you are disappointed
i don’t like the way my nickname sounds on your lips
and maybe it’s because i haven’t forgiven you yet–
i’m bitter about what happened; i’m bitter about corruption
about white lies i was too young to decipher–
i think, you carry a little of my soul around with you
and, i can hear past memories being unraveled in my chest
when you say my name casually
and when you look at me across the room
the day will come where i can look at you and assuredly say i am unaffected by you
concept: on my eighteenth birthday; if i could.
i would take a road trip somewhere with a few of my friends and bring our favorite songs.
we would stop for coffee at unknown places. we would raid the local stores for crazy merchandise.
finally, i think i’d like to stop at the beach at sunset. we could make a bonfire and bundle under blankets. we would stargaze and tell jokes.
water, sky, fire, and earth
because water washed away our sadness
and fire glowed with unmatched radiance
and sky drew us constellations
the earth simply takes and admires all three
water washes me
fire challenges me
and i dream with the sky
jeans and a cardigan
sipping her lemonade
she’s never learning
but she’s still somehow passing
a slight headache and she misses
(a hug would be nice)
and life just seems to be beating her
(melancholy-aftertaste sweetened with lemonade)
there is a girl who lives fifteen minutes from me
she vacations on the jersey shore
she had long hair; now it’s short
she had me; now it’s no longer us
i watch her through windows
and, i let her live because i think she’s better off without me
there are always two sides to the story
and i am always on the wrong side
because i trusted you, darling.
it’s hard not to drown in the bittersweet chocolate and you’re mine sentiments
she reminds me that this day is more than for men
with a care package, and I wish she was here
so we could spend it together
we could make tea and watch classic noir films
so I nibble at my chocolate and look at my polaroid of heart hands
and smile softly, because we’re galentines after all.
happy valentine’s day.
the three I miss,
my kindred across the country. sending me letters full of memories that I tape onto my wall. her blonde hair braided back at sleepovers, and we’re under blankets talking about books. her dimpled-smile when we danced to the songs on the radio. her hug, telling me we’ll make it together. I am held together by those hugs, and wanting another at the moment.
my red-headed, straightforward friend. I need to sit and cry a little with him. tell him all the thoughts plaguing me. because, he makes it seem bearable, logical, and can always make me smile.
my ocean-eyed love. driving his jeep on backroads, listening to ben rector and the mixtapes I made him. his hand in mine, where it should be. and, it’s been two months and he’s waiting for me. he loves my poetry, tells me not to change. I miss that.
I cannot replace these three. they are stitched in the inner-workings of my heart. with music, laughs, love, hurt, distance, and I think of them constantly.
I hope they still love me, when they see me now. the girl I have become in the last two months. she’s more hardened, more scarred, more easygoing, more determined, and more herself than she ever let herself be before.