i’m bad with names, but i’m good with faces. i’m bad with dates, but i remember the feelings that occurred. i don’t really go out much, i’m happily confined. i used to get high, but i eventually stopped. i answer all your questions with silence, and i question all of your answers.
does he really love me?
i’ve learned that i’m a passionate lover and most of the time, things end badly. i have two moods — all in or nothing at all. love me now or love me never — i’m not very good at having patience. love has always come easily to me. i’m still in love with person i rode the elevator with this morning and the boy with sand in his hair from summer ’09. these days i’ve been struggling more than usual. i’m trying to be alright. some days i’m too tired — no amounts of coffee and red bull help ease away the pain of falling asleep, but i still drink it anyway.
what is love to you?
it used to be so much easier to fall in love. these days, i’m bad with small talk. i want depth and give too much of me the first chance i get. i’m tripping on myself. my feelings are tangled, and i don’t know what to do with them anymore. these are my words — these are my thoughts. i wish i could make them disappear until i realize that somehow this is still poetry — me complaining about my issues. so if this is poetry, do you believe me now? i would walk into a million lifetimes, but there would only be one you.
i only ever want you.