before.
his eyes were the color of coffee the instant after you pour in cream. they took me to that place filled with hazelnut mixed with caramel, the sweet smell of caffeine through my nose. “don’t fall too fast,” my heart would say, but i couldn’t help it. i wanted the bones of his fingers to intertwine with mine, i wanted the lure of his faint vanilla scent to drift its way over to the threads of my sweaters, i wanted his cacophonous laugh to ring in my ears until i couldn’t fall asleep at night. because sometimes when insomnia keeps me by the moonlight, when the night strangles me with its cold grip, i think of him and all that could be. i think of all the moments that never happened, the moments that i was creating for the two of us. because sometimes, as the sun shines on the other side of the world, i close my eyes and think of him and his entirety. i think of how i want to trace his spine with my fingertips, chilling my own bones with the idea of something so crookedly straight. i think of how i want my lips to press against his neck, for my head to rest on his shoulders. because sometimes when the stars are behind the clouds, i could drift away into the lull of sleep knowing that they were still there and he could still be mine.
during.
the warmth of his palm on top of mine is a feeling i won’t ever be able to describe. when we part, my hand aches from the cold, from the loneliness it spent seventeen years living through. it’s funny how much someone can complete you. i can’t help but wonder sometimes what life was like before he came into mine. how did i survive the cold nights, knowing that i was alone? how did i watch the sunrise without him by my side? i spent my entire life telling myself that i didn’t need young love to get me through the day, that i would just end broken and hurt. but let me tell you, having somebody by your side is the most wonderful feeling in the world. i am in a constant state of free-falling, perpetually lightweight. i can wake up in the morning knowing that he cares about me the same way i care about him. i can wake up in the morning knowing that somehow the constellations aligned and they let us become one.
after.
after a while, his eyes became the color of black coffee like the kind my dad always drinks. we lost that spark, that lust for love. we were foolish, young, and carefree. i was so stupid to let myself get entangled into his mesmerizing state of being. i was so stupid, so stupid. never trust a boy with a smile that’ll melt your heart because he’ll break it soon after. he’ll weld together all the cracks that other boys have made and he’ll make you feel whole again. he’ll make you become head over heels, lost in your own happiness. and then when you expect it the least, he’ll shatter you like the glass in front of a fire alarm. he’ll shatter you and then run because he doesn’t want the blame. he doesn’t want to live with the idea that he destroyed you. and all i can say is that now when i look at the night sky, the stars, they just don’t shine the same.
The other day in English, my friend asked me to write a poem on “what is love?”. I wrote it in his notebook and then decided later that night that I wanted a second go at it. I’m sorry if it’s super long, but I couldn’t stop the words. Everything’s a bit strange lately, and “When I Was Your Man” has been on constant repeat, but this is part 2.
to the little girl i never met,
to the little girl inside of me.
(a poem that makes no sense.)
November 25, 2012.
Weirdest poem I’ve ever written.
November 16, 2012.
One-quarter.
September 15, 2012.
Autumn.
September 1, 2012.
August will always hold a part of me.
I apologize for this though. This writing is disgusting.
Untamed.
June 4, 2012.
Innocence.
