How Arrogant
She was alone, and I thought she could use some company. Just a laugh or two, anything to make that forlorn aura dissipate.
Talks turned to walks, and walks into dates. I wore myself on my sleeves, and rolled them up while I pried into her most hated forms. She wasn’t so bad, not to me.
Time flew as I poured myself into her, our eyes locked, souls bared wide.
Or so I thought.
No, for she looked beyond, to a place where I no longer existed. A place where strife was an old friend, and lonliness preferable company.
Perhaps she wasn’t ready yet, or maybe she was - just not for me.
an a tt e m p t
i meant to give you the world
i didn't mean to make it hurt
i meant to give you the stars
i never meant to harm me with scars
i meant, i meant something else
entirely
when i said i could't settle i
didn't mean to pass you by
like a satelite.
i meant to have something in common
i didn't mean to only share
the way we repressed our feelings
i meant to communicate and care
you see
i meant, i meant something else
entirely
when i said you were no help
i meant to ask you to try caring as well.
i meant to make up my mind
i didn't mean to always have you decide
i meant to keep you as friend
and then as something undefined
i meant, i meant something else
entirely
when i said goodbye
i never meant forever
i meant to be back in a while
not to unwelcome myself
from your place
and to pathetically weep
after your face
i meant, i meant something else
entirely -
guess this is why we failed.
Secret Almond-Hazel Eyes
Ever had nature pull you to someone like a magnet? Nature really wanted me to be with her, the brown haired dancer who lived down the road. Her sweet heart-shaped face had a beautiful smile, and soft pink dusted cheeks. With her natural facial features came her daring eyes, which tended to speak louder than anyone in the room with just one crude look.
Before I even imagined having a crush on her, she was my best friend. We went from sewing clothes for our stuffed animals together to partying with just the two of us. Time flew by, and soon, her smile made me melt into a mushy fourth of July popsicle. Anything she said sounded like a harp in heaven, even if it was cruel. I was simply head over heels for her and the stories her eyes would tell just by expression.
I'll never forget the first time I kissed her, right after pinning her down on a trampoline. Her expression was as excited as mine once she felt my hands reach out to hold hers, reality quickly tried to snap us both back into place after a few seconds of paradise, but failed. The cuddles we shared alongside secret whispers of lust behind any boyfriends back seemed to slowly build after that, and over time, we became closer than I ever expected, though we never became girlfriends. 'Sneaky-best-friend-lovers' is probably the best word out there to explain.
the misfortune of falling in love with a flame
she looks like a lit match,
all orange-haired and red-faced
and white-hot in your hands
but every moment lost to contemplation
is another centimeter closer to getting burned
she almost fools you into forever,
her warmth persuading promises from your lips
before your consciousness can catch up
and by the time it does, all that remains is
scarred flesh and a curl of black smoke
and ashes like an apology for the love that could’ve been
if she had not been born a flame,
a fleeting thing
a real-life in-person physical-copy
Funny... check
Handsome... check
Street smart,
Book smart,
Capable,
Athletic,
Nice,
Musically inclined...
all of the above...check
im not sure if you see the pros and cons of this guy...
bc all all I see are pros *blink*
oh wait
^depression...check
But he was mine.
Or at least he was in my head.
A pretty picture,
a doll, makeup on.
I’d liked actors and musicians,
several deceased individuals,
maybe a couple professional athletes,
and, as any of us may understand, more than a countable number of book characters
...but he was real.
And that was why he was different.
A real-life, in-person, physical-copy.
7th period
last row
desk in the corner
Never talked in person
...can’t get myself to spend any courage
never invest any courage
can’t grow my supply
won’t talk to him
just watch
distance
all I’ll ever do
gave an apple pie to another guy
only the year before
spent all my courage then
wasnt a crush
hate the guy now
for misusing my courage
only watch...
all I’ll ever do
he's so pretty that’s all I need to do
I’d embarrass myself otherwise
Complimented me on a google meet
Told me he liked my pfp
said Merlin’s a top notch show
I didn’t see til he’d left
only watch...
all I’ll ever do
but I’m cool with that
Saline Confetti
And he’s almost too cold to touch, I’d leave him alone if I didn’t love him so much, in ways of the heart, our physicality, and such, he hit me in the core, a gut-wrenching punch
He came not to hold, but destroy my mechanical heart like a child’s brittle toy, he was clever, he was hidden, and he was coy, my rusted, unkempt, discontent, broken boy
And I don’t mean to be a bleeding cloud, I’ll admit how I feel, but I won’t do it aloud, he knows my resistance, he colors me proud, to him, I am just a face in a swirling crowd
But how can I be just the same, just another woman by the name of Plain Jane, he feels nothing as raw love drives me insane, my efforts to move him are pointless, inane
I wish I could transport him in a mirroring way, like the manner in which he got me to stay, make it so his heart would never stray, but there’s too much fright for me to convey-
I walk with him across thin, splintering ice, to fall under love’s spell, there is often a price, it is rarely pretty, it is not always nice, and my emotional faculties are starting to splice
-Together, but I don’t feel ready, try as I might, I can’t keep my breath steady, his scent alone is intoxicating, it’s heady, it cuts through my defences like a razor sharp machete
… From my eyes falls saline confetti…
Inside my brain, it is getting darker, graffiti my thoughts with an onyx Magic Marker, logic and reality are becoming starker and I’m running out of time
What happened to when he was mine…?
In my bed, I still see his outline, my skin is VIBRATING, I am losing my MIND, and, of my Love Heart, there are simply pieces to find and in my memories, only slices of the always-weeping kind
He wore me like jewelry, something to wrap around him for others to envy, like a ring of fleshy, elastic quality, but that should have stayed between the sheets, him, and me
Love, again, has become the Red Ghost, a parasitic longing looking for its next host, it left our story when we needed it the most, one more drink of champagne, one last sappy toast
But I’d sooner strangle than let it go, suffocate this fixation with a Christmas bow, cover it with a pillow, bury it in snow, find any way to grab it and never let it go
This isn’t healthy, I know, but I already told you that insanity is in tow, I’d do anything to cushion this blow if only my head would just tell me, “No.”
But, inside, I feel a faint growl, my mental predators are on the prowl, my heartstrings are cut, I let loose a howl and I fall away
Insomnia has me caught in its web, I’m anxiously waiting for this torment to ebb, lightly I call to him, quietly I almost beg, but it’s too late
I am alone in a sinking boat, an ocean of emotion tearing against my throat, capsizing quickly, I can’t stay afloat, beneath me are verbal bodies fat and white with bloat
Burning with desire, I realize now how I was playing with fire, it’s not safe to romantically admire when he was never real
After all, he had no heart to steal
Ache
I will preface this poem to say that my first real, serious crush was completely unrequited and not very realistic as I think back on it. He was my best friend's older brother, and a
dashing marine. All the descriptors for a cheesy hallmark movie haha. I remember after I met him for the first time, I couldn't eat for a week. I cannot explain that feeling to this day, however I was a young college girl who put her first "love" on such a pedastal there was not room for 2. So when I think of this time in my life, I think of how I just ached. I ached for him, and did not even know him. Not really. Sounds silly to me now, but to the young girl that I was, it was everything and it was real.
Here is what I wrote back then some 8 years or so now.
When
I find myself
writing of you
I lose myself completely.
I ache for want of you and
search for you in a sea of faces.
I cry tears that wash away doubts,
wipe the slate clean and my wanting goes on,
as if it were a myth passed down by word of mouth
as if it were a song that begged to be sung for the world.
Don't you see? Wanting you does not make me whole or happy.
Needing you does not complete the faint heartbeat of life.
Consoling myself to be resigned to waiting is akin
to waiting for rain in a decade long drought,
chafing from the ends of my hands to
the tips of my toes you encompass
every part of my aching body.
And I, well I, wait for want
of you and only you
like seas when
they recede
into quiet
sleep.
Tag
I was 5
He was 6
In kindergarten
At my old school
We always chased kids at recess
Around the jungle gym
Past the swings
Our feet hurting from the sharp mulch
I always chased him
His blond hair would get sweaty
His brown eyes would be so happy
Every girl liked him
He was the popular kid
The hipster of us all
I liked him
Well
As much as a 5 year old can
He moved away
I dont even remember his name
Young love
To the boy I loved,
I met you in 8th grade,
Oh how young and niave we both were.
We held hands and laugh at each other's childish humor.
I loved the freckles on your cheeks even though I hated mine.
I loved your dark brown eyes that had a tint of honey in them.
What we had was undeniable, there was something in the way you made me feel.
Everything disappeared when I saw you,
My heart never suffered as much as the day I lost you.
It was not our fault, my parents decided we would move away, and I think we adknowledge the fact we couldn't help it. But deep down we both wish things were different.
Though most people would look back at their childhood relationships and first loves and claim it wasn't true love. If we truly think about it, it was the truest love we would ever experience. We knew each other, not of money, not of sex, but a friendship that was enhance with the purity and innocence of our souls that linked us to each other. Not linked, bonded.
So you see, you were my first love, my favorite love, but years later my heart would go running back to the kind of relationship we had, even if it were nothing but a friendship again. I miss you, I miss us, I miss your laugh, I miss the way you jump during the haunted houses, and I miss us singing at the top of our lungs together at the lunch table of the same middle school where we met. I do truly believe that we were soulmates. It was always you since the day we met, and it still is...
(True story btw!)
The List
Write me in the list of girls you talk quietly about.
And I'll pretend it was all in my head
We'll keep living our arrogant lives,
Knowing we were nothing but ends.
You are an image of a hand in mine,
the disappointment of the sun in my eyes.
I am the desperate swim downwards,
hoping the cold water beneath will make you feel something.
We are lost.
Standing tall in a maze of hushed voices,
trying to find the truth amongst the flitters of our heartbeat.
I have never loved the way I love you!
Though I know you have.
I am simply another girl to lose your heart to,
but you are the first I will lie about.
In a world of ending,
there is no use in believing you would want to begin.