Yeah… never mind. I have no self control. Here it is.

I’m still a little in awe of how we came to be, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of our arson. You’ve awoken butterflies I thought I’d lost. I’m still not quite sure why we fit together so well, but I fold into you so gently. It’s like coming home. Kissing you makes existence taste a little softer, a little bit more like lemonade. I’m a little scared of how sweetly you say my name, but bad things don’t feel like you do, sighing my name, kissing my neck. Curl into me, touch me gently, please. I’m learning how to be whole again.

So… remember how that super depressing poem I posted yesterday was supposed to be a love poem? This one is way more like that, and I wrote it immediately after I wrote the sad one. (Don’t worry, nothing’s been spoiled, I wrote an almost completely happy poem!! I won’t post it till it’s time, don’t worry!) Anyways, I’m really excited about the other one, but this one is slightly happy and also kind of sweet so I’m gonna post it now that it’s not ruining anything!

Oh, god, honey, we did everything wrong didn’t we? Kissed too quick, held each other too broken, ignored that my world was collapsing. Everything hurt for so long, sweetie. My heartbreak was so heavy I forgot how to exist. But oh, god, you’re such a warmth around me, your eyes shine friendly on the moss of me. I’m afraid of love but god, you do it so well. Kiss me longer, I want more beauty in the world. Love me harder, I’ve gotten a taste of what it’s like to go to sleep smiling and it’s awoken a greed in me. Is it too soon to hope we got it right?

This was supposed to be a love poem… I’m not sure what happened.

The last time I trusted someone with my heart I found it bloody and bruised in an alleyway. The earth broke open with the enormity of my grief, mourning a love I never asked for. I am systematically flawed in ways I haven’t even discovered yet. I’ve never chosen a boy who wouldn’t cut me deep. I’m not sure I know how to. Who’s to say you’re not another mistake, another upturned wrist ready to happen? Who’s to say I’m not setting myself up for inked skin? I have known only empty kisses and emptier promises. I’ve forgotten how to think without lips pressed to mine. Go ahead, tell me you’re biding your time till you cut my flowers to shreds. Tell me about the girl on the subway you kissed last night. I’ve been hurt too much, honey. I’ve bled too much. Go break someone else.