my love

i am too blunt in my writing for my own good — my mom always told me to be honest.

i have been trying to see myself as more than just flaws recently. some days i feel like all i do is try.

even with that attitude, i still manage to ruin my own day sometimes.

i say “i love you” too often — or so i’m told. always misusing these emotions to feel something, always addicted to love.

inject me with your kisses and i’ll be high forever. i’ll be a loose leaf of paper and you can be my favorite pen.

it seems that nowadays we’re all a bit lost. falling apart at the seems, but still trying to make sense of these colors.

instilled on empty, i used to always love with my whole heart. ready to be loved, forever and ever. now that’s not the case.

it seems lovers and friends are just different shades of blue and gray. too cloudy somedays to feel the rain, but too sad to even try.

the stretch of your smile turned into my favorite shape,

you sketched my heart to be your next regret,

and stitched up my soul in your palms,

because my love for you and your heart was always yours.


all i need is your time, all i want is your time.

we don’t need the strings, we don’t need the titles — if you’ve got me, then you’ve got me. don’t worry. 

i’ve got enough in me to do this right.

i’ve got enough in me to see this through.

i want to believe again, i want to stay hopeful, and i want to love again.

lately i feel like my love is like the ocean and it’s trying to drown us. so we’re in the ocean and there’s a boat. a boat with holes or something like that. instead of turning around, i’m plugging up the holes with my fingers, trying to fix it. i’m trying not to drown the both of us but it’s only me with blisters on my hands.

is love trying to destroy? do the words of tomorrow defeat the words of today? does it all go away when you say “i don’t love you anymore” and if so, how?

love seems to be relearning our times tables when we’re multiplying our heartbreaks. we fall, we cry, we stand, repeat.

maybe love is like a wand. whoever holds the wand creates the magic. God.

does someone fall in love or does love fall into me? am i too vulnerable sometimes? do i make it too easy to break my heart?

he loves me, he love me not. he loves me, he loves me not.

why won’t you love me?

one mississippi. two mississippi. three mississippi. you’re gone again.

my love is like a calendar with 13 months. 13 is bad luck. so i hold onto those 12 months while i can.

so when you love someone, i mean, truly, completely, utterly, unconditionally love someone, does it ever stop? how do you know and what does that feel like? does it feel like two people holding hands and then slowly sliding away from each other as they say “i don’t know you anymore.” 

love seems to convey all emotions into one palette. joy, happiness, jealousy, anger, hope, fear, adoration, and somehow, loneliness. i want to paint with them all. i’ll paint it on my face for next person to see. i’m not hiding. 

somewhere between 2016 and now, i lost a piece of myself. maybe i’m finally growing into the person i’m meant to be because i don’t miss that part of myself — and that’s the crazy thing about love. i’m finally starting to love myself for only myself. 

you see, there’s so many questions i could ask you. why did you stay? what was it about me? why didn’t you stay? was i not enough?

poetry, art, music, mountains — those are some of the few things i’ll never stop loving. just read, look, and listen. those are the things i am. have patience with me, read with me, smile with me, laugh with me, adore all the things i hate about myself, and just wait — because i will do the same for you.

some lovers begin with hello, some lovers begin with a smile, some lovers begin with a glance, some lovers begin with influence, some lovers begin with mystery, but all lovers not meant to be will end with a goodbye.

i wish i knew the ending before because i maybe i would’ve kept reading the first chapter instead of trying to skip ahead.

our past will swallow us alive, our present will be determined to tear us apart if we let it, but our future will always be a bright painting of summer seas waiting to kiss summertime flowers.

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