souvenir

i think we are window shopping because
i don’t have much to offer and
you might not want to remember this place
after we leave it
i bought you a snow-globe of us in the rain
you shake it to be transported when i’m not there

and every grasp of your hand
every kiss
every text message at dusk when i’m supposed to be busy
every poem
is a way of saying,
i don’t want to be just a souvenir this time 

 

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stardust girl

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. 

life lessons.

the most important lessons i’ve learned so far in my eighteen years:

  • you are your own person. things like boundaries are boring.
  • life is too short to not pick wildflowers.
  • or to smile at strangers in cars.
  • if someone says you can’t; you might as well do it.
  • love who you love, even if it ends badly…
  • fight for what you love. but, also know when to peaceably protest for what you love.
  • never tell people how to live their lives; only supply guidance. they’ll listen to you more.
  • break the rules. don’t capitalize letters. don’t do things because it’s orthodox.
  • maybe the things you want don’t want you back. that hurts like hell.
  • rejection is unavoidable.
  • if someone leaves; no one made them,
  • and you are not responsible for that.
  • friends are soul-mates. platonic love will you make you feel alive.
  • cry tears of joy/pain, but always drive somewhere with music loud after you’re done.
  • suicide is never the answer and should never be an option.
  • get help. talk about mental illness. open up. open up. it will save you.
  • and once you think you are done with the person you are; look in the mirror once more
  • because who you are is beautiful
  • you are changeable, melding, and you are always seeing the world in a hue of color someone doesn’t know about.

bitter.

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

 

 

 

 

kind of person

you’re the kind of person who i want to hear on the regular

the kind i change the radio stations constantly for

and the kind who listens to beach reggae

but changes it for me because i love soft indie

and the kind who treats me right because you think i’m special

and laugh at me when i try to convince you i’m not

(that’s the kind of person i fall in love with more and more)