Never fall in love with a writer because she will fit you on a piece of paper with words that feel stronger than either of you ever could.

I finally admitted to myself that I really like you as I fell asleep under streetlights, driving home in your car. But still I tried to tell myself that this can’t be true. You have the heart of a blue jay and a nest that’s just too far away from mine. I didn’t think I could bring myself to cage you. But I sure hope I can bring myself to fly with you. Our first kiss tasted like chocolate, sweaty palms, a pool table, and punk rock. Everything about that night was a total disaster. We were yelling and thrashing and throwing punches in a crowd of strangers and when your lips came crashing into mine, I found god in the spaces between your teeth. I was shocked that a sinner could want to spend that much time in church. We get lost just about every time we go somewhere. You can never seem to get the directions quite right but I don’t mind because you can’t promise me that we’ll get there on our first try but you always promise me that we will get there eventually. You have never let me down before please don’t start now. Maybe this isn’t going to last forever but I think we have to try because ever since I met you I don’t just sing in the shower anymore. I have rock concerts. I have lions in my veins wreaking havoc on my life because when you’re here I can’t be the lion tamer anymore. But more importantly, I don’t want to be the lion tamer anymore. The best parts of me run wild when you are around. I put out empty jars to try and collect all of the beautiful things you say to me like the rain water dripping off the porch, I sleep with your sweatshirt wrapped around my pillow in the hopes of dreaming that you’re here again. But I only ever dream up lines to songs I’ll never be able to put music to. This is one of those songs. This is not a love poem. This is an I-really-fucking-like-you poem. And I am so sorry if that is too much too soon for you. Holding your hand as I was drifting off to sleep that night I think I tried telling you that I was falling for you and I listened to you breathing as we passed under streetlight after streetlight just praying you would say it first. It feels like we will never have the courage to jump off that cliff. But maybe, maybe it takes more courage to climb up that cliff. You are still a few paces ahead of me. I am wheezing and falling behind but I promise that I will catch up to you soon. I cannot promise you that I will get there on my first try. But I promise you I will get there eventually. I have never let you down before. Why would I start now?

My mouth dried out when you called to tell me all about the dignity and longing that you spilled into a stranger’s heart. When you whisper to me, it is an ocean breeze. I can feel the saltwater lapping at my ankles still. I wondered how many of my lines you whispered to her as casually as the wind. When your love finally breaks me down, I will throw my head back, and I will laugh like the child I really am, tangling jump ropes on the sidewalk, enjoying the breeze on an afternoon in May. I used to think we were so different, but we are the same. We are both just kids playing double-dutch with our heartstrings, hoping we don’t end up in knots. I used to think you were still pure enough to have flowers growing up your veins, but you have weeds like the rest of us. We are sad children with decaying insides, pouring our morals down strangers’ kitchen sinks. We are the same. I could try and blow the puffs of my dandelion heart as far from here as I can. But I’d much rather bloom with you. I’ll even take the weeds. I’ll never let the wind pick up these seeds.

Flutter My phone is pressed tight against my face as my butterfly eyelids start to flutter shut. I listen to your breath rushing to me over the lines, heavy, calm, tidal- pulling any doubts I’ve ever had out to sea. I hope your waves never push them back ashore. I wish I could be pulled in by your currents tonight. Even though I can’t, it feels so close. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. We have nothing in common with horse shoes- I guess that makes us hand grenades. I’m ready to go off brilliantly in your arms. But, maybe we’re more like landmines because I tread so carefully through fields of grass, catching glimpses of the wings of butterflies. I am steadfast, determined to not set anything off tonight. Please not tonight. Still listening to your waves of breath crash over the phone, finally I give in to the heaviness of butterflies. Save your landmines. We’ll disarm them in the morning.

baby i try to think of any reason to break you, never show me how i remember how you touched me when i told you you’re all i think of. i am jealous of anyone who can see you, when i still don’t know how.

Sometimes when we are together I like to just sit in silence. I think you understand that it’s not a matter of having nothing to say. It’s a matter of not being able to say anything right. I hope you understand. I will tip-toe through the bedrooms that you are asleep in in your mind. I cannot promise to not wake you- I am clumsy, but I promise to always make you smile after I turn on the lights in rooms you didn’t realize I was still standing in. I will run my fingertips lightly over the faded scars of your old wounds as if they are piano keys. I promise to never leave more behind. I will sprinkle seeds, planting flowers in your hair. I will watch them bloom. I will watch you bloom. I am anchored in my own ways while trying to sail on the winds of you. I am a lighthouse patiently waiting to guide you home to me again. I will brush my hands against yours until you grab them. Do not let them go. Do not let me go. We need all hands on deck.

I listen to an owl outside my window as I try to fall asleep tonight. I wonder what he’s trying to say. Eventually, the sound and the thought are drowned out by your heavy breathing. With your head pressed up against my chest everything finally feels as if it’s in the right place. The jigsaw pieces of my battered heart are finally put back together. The chaos is finally put to rest. She is asleep in your arms. I am sorry for all the words that spill out of me quietly. Toxic and sour, they taste like spoiled milk. They slip past my lips, salting wounds that we both struggle with every day. You have no reason to forgive me. I say I love you as I drive knives into your ribcage, but I am sorry. That owl once told me that love is a decision- not just a feeling. I decided so long ago that I am going to love you and let myself be loved by you. He’s still outside chattering away and I am still awake, listening to your breathing, wondering if I made the right decision, wishing I could ask him, but already knowing he would say yes.