Again.

Seriously?
Seriously.
wait, SERIOUSLY?

you. of all people.
are you freaking kidding me?
now I know the world is messing with me.

because you're back in my life.
You, who I thought I could be in love with.
You, who occupied every thought in my mind for I don't even know how long
You, who I think of whenever I hear Halo, or Hot and Cold, or so many other damn songs that have now been ruined for me
You, who I can't walk around my own campus without thinking about
You, who always pops up in my head when I don't want you there
You, who is STILL my kryptonite
You. You are so damn stubborn. and confusing. and annoying and slow and stupid

and attractive. and amazing. and bright and easy to laugh with and so lifting to be around
I hate you.
that's not true.
I hate what you do to me.
I hate that even after all these years, I'm still so attached to you
that I still have feelings for you
I thought I buried them
six feet under, under new memories and more resolve and logic that i've already repeated to myself a thousand times
you're no good for me. you're no good for me. you're no good for me.
you don't know what's good for me.
but being around you makes me want to cry.
and i wish i knew why
maybe it's because you took so damn long
and i didn't even know I was waiting
maybe it's because you've put me through so much
maybe it's because I didn't know this is what I wanted until you offered it
maybe because after everything i've been through with everyone else
you're still something that I want

I want to know you. all of you.
I want you to hold me in your arms as I fall asleep and I want you to tell me it's alright when I have nightmares and I want you to tell me I'm pretty in the morning even when I know I'm not
I want me to be the first thing you see.
I want to roll over and think i'm still dreaming. that this is too great to be reality
I want to take a chance on everything that we could have been

I want to scream
at you
at full volume
how frustrated you make me
I want to yell
your name
from the rooftop of my apartment
in hopes that you'll hear it
because my heart has been calling out to you
and I was just plugging my ears for the last two years

I wish I had the courage
to ask you to make me yours
and I wish I could trust you
to know that you won't let me down
or hurt me again.

but I don't know anything.
and I don't even know if I can take a chance on this
as much as I want to
because your halo keeps getting caught on your horns
because you let the devil on your tongue do the talking too much
and I can never tell which version of you I'm going to get

So pick one, and stick with it.
learn to speak from your heart, not just your mind
and then
maybe
then we can talk.

Svegliarsi la mattina

you sang to me, beautiful words I didn't understand
saying that first thing you wanted to do upon waking in the morning
was talk to me. only with me.

It took me a moment to realize that those were the lyrics
you weren't the one doing the talking
it felt so fucking perfect
but the universe just likes messing with me too much
to let this be easy

So open the door for me to be overly critical of myself
making me feel guilty for being less than perfect
wishing I could be exactly what you want
so i would never have to leave your arms
which felt so right that I never wanted to be anywhere else.

I'm so damn A.D.D.
but I like to say that I just think faster than everyone else
but you kept me entertained
for hours
I could sit at listen to you
all your stories unfolded in front of me
and I hung on your every word like my life depended on it.
remembered every detail of your life better than I remember what I did yesterday.

I never liked football
until it meant spending more time with you
now when the game comes on
I watch it, and wonder what you're thinking
but it's less fun when you're not around
to make fun of all the fumbles and slip ups

You were and are such a gentleman
too bad I don't speak etiquette.
now I'm hoping that we can still be friends
as dumb as that sounds
because i'm pretty sure that you don't want to be more than that anyways.
but just so you know...

I started making plans.
I knew better, but I did it anyway.
so now, when I hear that song
with the slow sweet guitar that serenades my mind
and syrupy lyrics that melt my heart
it makes me wish for things I can't have.
makes me angry that I've never been able to have them.
makes me wonder what I've done wrong to never be lucky enough to be in love.

Wanting part 2

I want you to know that you give me the butterflies. Know that I've never been in love- but I want to know what it's like. I want to stop being angry at all the dumbasses that fucked me over, the nights that shouldn't have happened, the stupid mistakes I knew better than to make but they felt so good that made them anyway. I'm tired of compromising my identity for a future that he won't stick around long enough to recognize.

I want you to make me yours. Take me away from here and say we'll always be together- I've always wanted a forever man but I never wanted to ask. Thought it would make me look bad if people knew I didn't want to be alone. That Ive been doing me and doing it well for so damn long that I might sacrifice between my future with myself and my future with him. But I don't even have a him.
We only go through this life once. I know that I want to be able to wake up and hear "I love you" at least once. To feel okay for taking a risk; knowing that in the end it was worth it because the fireworks that happened when we were together were so much brighter than the flames that our relationship died in. To be able to look back and see the midddle of the story, not just the end.

I want to stop feeling like I'm broken, like I fucked up, like it's my fault that I don't trust the opposite sex when I know that that trust has been abused so many times. I want to not wonder what I'm doing wrong that I dontdesrve or get the chance at love. I'm tired of making excuses for how I am. I don't want to have to do this alone any more. I want to have a valentine and not feel guilty for that person helping me through rough patches. I wish someone would understand how my mind works and be willing to sacrifice for me.
I wish I didn't feel guilty for writing all this.

Wanting part 1

I want to be done with this. Physics is driving me crazy. I want to work in a tropical rainforest where the birds and the frogs are so loud that I can't sleep properly for the first two weeks. I want to get back to knowing exactly who I am and what I want and where I'm going. I'm tired of feeling lost and confused and frustrated and having to do stupid things that don't apply to me. I'm tires of being treated like another student who's going to med school because I'm not. I'm going to make a bigger difference. I'm used to being supported but I also know how to face those who are armed with "you can't"s. Because I can and I fucking will. You can try to stop me but I've come too far to turn around and be deterred. I just wish I didnt have to slog through all the bullshit of required nonsense when really I know exactly here I want to end up- and it doesn't have to do with a category three GE. let me follow my passion- is it really so hard to believe that ive known what I want to do since I was twelve? Because I do know. I have known. Stop trying to mold me into all the cookie cutter filler students who just want to go to med school so they can please mommy and daddy and live in a house with a white picket fence with a white husband and white kids and white walls that feel more like bars. I want to escape from this apathetic crowd that I'm drowning in. Someone help me please- tell me I'm not the only one who cares.

Writer's block

they said
"You're the worst thing to happen to my writing."
I didn't understand what they spoke of, until
I put my pen to paper only to trace your name
to see how your last and my first look like the best poetry i could write.
because it rings in my ears like it should have when I was still in middle school.

all that comes out is a stream of consciousness
and I'm in a broken boat without a paddle
floating past lover's metaphors and eloquent verbal melodies
I just wave at the banks of syntax
as i flow past anything decent to perform.

Heat

they said
"You're the worst thing to happen to my writing."
I didn't understand what they spoke of, until
I put my pen to paper only to trace your name
to see how your last and my first look like the best poetry i could write.
because it rings in my ears like it should have when I was still in middle school.

all that comes out is a stream of consciousness
and I'm in a broken boat without a paddle
floating past lover's metaphors and eloquent verbal melodies
I just wave at the banks of syntax
as i flow past anything decent enough to perform

Maybe it would help if I told you that I'm new to all of this.
I have no idea what I'm doing
and I thought that when it was right, I would know
but this- feels so damn perfect.

But I should warn you- I may be more innocent than I seem.
I've yet to know how it feels to be caught up in the moment
bodies intwined, defenseless and silent
to go past the point of no return.

that being said:
I want you to make me sweat.
have my desire for you pour through my pores
so that the shimmers on my skin
look like heat waves rising off the pavement
and I'll think that you're a mirage.

I want you to know the roads of my body
not just the well traveled highways of my face and my hands
that all eyes have traveled over.
I want you to know the unlit backroads
that you can only find by taking the long way home.
but understand that some drivers don't know the meaning of the word respect
they blazed past yield warnings and through red lights
leaving skid marks on my psyche.
But I've since let the water wash away and fill the cracks in the pavement.

So
I want you to turn me into a storm
let your fingertips send lightning bolts through my chest
the thunderous response will be a purr in my throat
your name, murmured into the rain
that trickles from my shoulders to my legs, like the path of your eyes
when you put me in a bed of rumbling clouds.

I want you to make me your fireplace.
wrap me around the heat that burns so bright in the night
the one that flickers in the windows of your eyes
flames that licks the bricks with soft tendrils
leaving an ashy charcoal
the perfect tool to write with

I'll turn you into a poem.
each curve of your body etched onto the page
make your mind into a metaphor
swirl your soul with the ink of my pen
translate your love into letters
that i'm almost too scared to let leave my lips.

so these words are said with apprehension
in hope that the fingers that snap together
will turn into flint and tinder
starting sparks to ignite your fire
that keeps me so inspired
keeps me standing up here;
knowing that I have the courage
to stand naked in front of a crowd
to strip myself down in front of strangers
but I'm afraid to let you touch me
to learn the secrets of your skin
but when I'm finally brave enough
know that I won't hesitate to let you in.

Doctor's Note

I think I need a doctor.
Because my brain won't tell my lips what to say
whenever you look at me that way.

All my witty comments are lost
with my quick comebacks
missing somewhere in the fields of "what ifs" and "could be's"

So I think I need a doctor
because I've contracted laryngitis
I'm speechless around you.

Words just won't do
to explain the knot that ties up my tongue
like a five year old's messy shoelaces
when your hand touches my shoulder
It tingles like there are miniature lightning bolts in each of your finger tips
I would say that I can feel the static electricity between us
but our energy is dynamic
it changes with each time you lock eyes on mine
how your smiles make me rhyme

So I think I need a doctor
because something is wrong with my balance
I can't put one foot in front of the other
without thinking
that I'm falling for you.

And I'm not very good at communicating that
so I let my actions speak louder than words
but apparently, you're not listening

so maybe some flashing neon signs will make this more obvious
bright lights that spell out
I like you.
those three little words that get caught in my throat
whenever you bite your lip in the middle of a thought

Because I want to be the girl that holds your hand in public
so all your friends will whisper "oh, that's her?" when I walk in a room
the girl that you stay up all night with
just to talk.
But talking gets old, I want to be your complement
I want to be the up when you're down
the blue to your orange
the lock to your key
the answer to your question

So say yes, you'll be mine
and when February comes around
you'll be my valentine
that you'll stay by my side and I'll stay in your mind

because I don't want to have to go
to the doctor's
and ask them to fix
a broken heart.