If You Let Me Love You...

If you let me love you...

If you let me love you

I would love you like how the sun leaves lipstick stains on your skin

Like how the moon trails your shadow and laughter

Like how fireflies emerge from your fallen tear drops

And the wind dances until it makes you blush pink

I would love you like how the rain washes the day clean off your skin so you can breathe again

I would love you the way nature intended you to be loved

The way you have forgotten you deserved to be loved

If you let me love you

Stopped glancing away

And dancing around conversations

And walking past me

If you looked at me

Let me look at you

Let me love you

I would tell you of how when you smile I can trace constellations in the spaces between your teeth

That when you open your eyes I can drown in galaxies that exist there

Pinpoint a pollen sized planet and make home there

Cease existing everytime you blink for a momentary eternity

I will trace the fractured lines of your heart on your soft palms and callused fingertips

If you let me love you

I will love you the right way

Which is to say that if you let me love you

I will let you love me too

Because sometimes the only reason you let someone in

Is so they will do the same for you

When the shooting star is gone and the night is dark again, all you have left to hold on to is the faith that your wish was heard

~Excuses for missing you

She was simply lovely the poems say. But she was not simply anything. And that is why i loved her. She was complex and interesting. She was unique and beautiful. And she was lovely but not simply she was a complex sort of beauty.   

Ghost girl

It needed to be said, but just not to you

~A Writer's Paradox

I broke a heart once

Twice

A few times

It is not what one might expect

Because most assume to break a heart

Means that you do not have one

That you have forgotten how to care for a delicate thing of that nature

But this is not true

To break a heart is to be reminded

That you do in fact have a heart

Feel it mirror each facture a thousand times over

And know that you caused this ache

I do not expect your pity

Nor your mercy

Do not ask you to forgive or forget the pain

But perhaps

Promise me you will try to be happy

In the way I could never make you

Promise me that you will not avoid eye contact in the halls

Smile like I am no one

That you will not change your seat on the bus

Sit next to me like I am stranger, far from perfect

Erase every trace of me

Every photo, email, sweater

Tell me that the light no longer refracts the shards of you that still cling to me

Tell me that you saw my blood sacrifice soaked sheets

That were a result of long sleepless nights being nicked by every last peice of your broken heart caught in my blankets

And threw them away

That you healed yourself and did not need me to do it

Tell me that you are happy

And I had nothing to do with it

But I suppose

I deserve no such redemption

And so I will sit here

With the ache of two people

Who never meant to break a heart

Where Does Poetry Come From

Where does your poetry come from, you ask. And this. This is where it comes from. From questions like this. Feel the words turn to ink in your mouth. Coat your tongue and drip onto notebook paper. Watch the ink turn into black hole droplets, and poetry my love, comes from the universes encapsulated in that darkness.

Where does your poetry come from, you ask. And then you smile. And that. That is where it comes from. It is birthed from the way the sun reflects off your teeth and eyes onto lined paper perfectly. The shadowed letters begging to be penned. Claiming they are here from the heavens and it is impossible to think otherwise.

Where does your poetry come from, you ask. And that is where it comes from. From the way every word spoken by your voice possesses a lyric like quality. A melody that sings me to sleep and wakes me gently to the sunrise. A song I cannot quite remember the words to and so I try to recall them with pen and paper and the quiet background track of your laughter set on repeat to keep me company, and jog my memory.