let me love you.

let me be your best friend,
I want to bury your secrets in my ribcage
I want to have movie nights,
and inside jokes.

let me be your soulmate,
I want to dance in the kitchen,
to get on my tiptoes to kiss your lips softly,
to wink at you in crowded places.

let me be your shoulder to cry on,
to hold you when you’re breaking
to help to stich you back up
let me tell you I hate to see you like this.

let me fight with you,
get frustrated at something you said,
or you not agree with me,
and then making it work out.

let me tell you, you’re my favorite thing
fill the passenger seat in your car,
have messy hair and sleepy mornings
and laugh at the snide remarks people will make.

let me love you…

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we’ll be poetry.

I get tipsy off tea samples, and you don’t mind at all.

I sang along to the song in the car, and you laughed at my dramatic reenactment.

I am raw at midnight, and we sit and talk on the couch.

I communicate with you through glances, smiles, and winks.

Someday, we’ll drive to the best place to watch the sunrise, and order cappuccinos at a drive thru.

We’ll name the stars, and you’ll paint the sun coming over us.

We’ll forever be set in poetry.

 

 

 

innocence.

Her hands have a slight tremor. “Stop that; I am in control,” she whispers to them. They have words written in pen–smudging on the ends–all over them. People tell her the ink will poison her, and she just laughs.

Her eyes are held open by mascara and cups of coffee. No cream, no sugar, she likes the bitterness.

She hums something under her breath. A song from some distant memory. That Ben Rector song that made her smile and cry at the same time.

She’s been heartbroken, but the broken heart is fixed with a little tape and glitter glue.

Her taste is eclectic; never fit into a box. Her room is littered with pictures of old memories; movie tickets, polaroids, letters, journals, and glass figurines. Her stuffed animals lined up on a shelf, and she kisses their cheeks when their eyes droop.

Maybe, she never grew up. She got taller, wears makeup, smiles when she’s told, strives for better grades, fell for boys, and felt her friends maturing day by day.

But–she would still hug the tree in the front yard, or dance along to her favorite songs when everyone else told her to stop.

She watched the city the other day. She drove her mother around, and she realized how alone she felt now.

So many people were gone; some by choice, and some because life is full of chapters. It seemed the town’s population of kindred spirits dwindled daily.

And, tears blurred her vision as she sped along the highway.

Growing up wasn’t what she always expected it would be…maybe she never would be everything they wanted. Maybe, she would always push boundaries, and always get cut from pushing the envelope too much.

That was alright. And, maybe people would keep leaving, because of college, jobs, and responsibility. And, maybe new people would appear and they’d make unforgettable memories together as well.

So, she still hummed the Ben Rector song, and tapped her trembling fingers to the piano playing in her mind, and tried to think of a time where innocence and happiness were second nature.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fight time.

We sat side by side in the dressing room,

tears streaming down our faces,

broken, bleeding, crying for help;

you held my hand, and said we had to stay friends,

fight time,

fight the impending pages rustling by quickly…

too quickly.

I want to freeze time and stay with you.

I want to miss you every time I see a blonde;

to keep writing you letters with ‘I love you,’ implied in every line.

Life is cruel.

I won’t let it take you from me.

I love you too much.

 

 

 

in & out

on key singing;

your voice ringing in my head all week.

car window searching;

it’s your face I look for every time.

 

my favorite songs tells a story;

that I never heard until you came.

everyone tells me the rumors,

that I never heard from you.

 

the city lights shine,

like fallen stars.

I wonder where you are,

in the vast sky.

 

in and out of love;

we got lost before we found each other.

I’m tired of searching for you,

and you’re not even trying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s been a long month.

the girl pays for her coffee with quarters,

her trembling hands grasping for another cup,

alone, she sits.

the seat across is empty, someone once sat there

the coffee runs down her throat, and warms her heartless body.

it’s been a long month.

 

the breath is knocked out of her,

as she watches couples hold hands

a tear escapes, and she scolds herself

too attached; she got too attached

she shoves the emotions away

it’s been a long month.

 

dear someone, she writes in her journal

why am I alive?

because, all I do is disappoint

and I break beautiful things

I wonder if there a point to this pain?

it’s been a long month.

 

and, the seconds creep by

slowly, the days muddle into night

she tells the moon about her failings

slowly, the nights drift into day

and she plods along whispering as an excuse,

it’s been a long month.