short poems 11:26 p.m.

poems written on 7.16.17:

Whole heart in. I get hurt. Heartless. I get hurt.

I get hurt. Heartless. I get hurt.

Heartless. I get hurt.

I get hurt.

 

Repeatrepeatrepeatrepeat

turn it off. let it go, they tell me

but this is my favorite song, I tell them

 

I want the universe to do us me a favor.

to bump into you one of these days

but maybe the universe is doing me a favor

keeping us apart.

 

I walked. I ran. I crawled. I stopped. I started again. I suffered. And you still haven’t let me into your heart.

8.06.17:

you didn’t bring the rain. you WERE the rain.

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poems. 2:04 AM

all written 07.11.17:

Whenever I was alone with you, it rains. Is it a coincidence that’s how you always make me feel sometimes?

When you didn’t talk to me and I didn’t talk to you the only thing that made the pain and sadness feel okay was the rain.

I put my feelings in. I start the cycle. But instead of cleaning, this cycle makes everything dirty: my heart and my soul.

breathe in. just thinking about your scent // or is that cologne?// that makes my mind lose control. throw up.

You had me. You had her. She had you. but I

never

had

you.

You think I didn’t say hi because I’m shy. But it doesn’t take a genius to realize that I never said hi because of her.

You touched me, Friend. You put my hair behind my ear, Friend. You spent the night with me, Friend. You want to know my secrets, Friend. You say “My,” Friend. But you are not my Friend.

You open your mouth and I call bullshit but then the tears are replaced with laughs and smiles and I start believing again.

Your fault. I feel bad. Your fault. I stop talking. Your fault. I confess. Your fault. You lost focus. Your fault. but why did i always think it was mine?

I prayed for you when I should’ve been praying for someone else.

Read. Opened. Almost as bad as “We need to talk.”

I thought you cared. You told me you did. So it’s not unrealistic to think that when I was gone you were thinking of me. But you weren’t. You weren’t thinking of me. You were forgetting about me.

I know what it would be like to let you go. I tried it but it didn’t work out. So what do I do now?

What do you want from me? Was I smart? For letting you go in the past? If so, why do you keep coming back?

Heart drops. Heart goes back up. Heart drops. Heart twists. Heart drops. Heart turns. Heart drops. Heart wants to give up.

I close my eyes and I can see his smile, hear his voice, picture him, smell him, remember him, drown in him. Caffeine, please keep me awake.

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thoughts 10:24 pm

Do you know how hard it is?

To restrict yourself from talking to the one person who has always been there to make you smile and uncontrollably laugh but has also been the one who’s done you wrong?

I just want some answers.

I just need to know why.

I want to know what I did wrong.

I just want to talk to him again and see his face.

I just want to erase the drama.

There’s nothing more I want to do than let him know that I’m still there and I still care.

But what about him?

Where is he?

How does he feel?

Does he even care?

Am I just another conversation to him?

Is this easy for him?

Will he wonder what happened?

Does he even know something’s wrong?

What if he turned around when he exited that door and saw me,

What would he have done?

No.

What would I have done? 

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the purple button-up and the red varsity jacket.

The purple button-up.

He wore it.

The guy who was in my 8th-grade class who I used to like.

He was wearing a purple button-up during the baccalaureate service for our 8th-grade graduation.

The purple button-up was how I told my friends that I liked him.

I asked them if they liked purple or white.

They answered purple.

And I said me too.

From that moment one, whenever I saw him wear that shirt I thought of that moment.

How I was unafraid to admit that I liked him.

I finally wanted to tell my friends about him.

But that’s when things started to plummet.

Then comes the red varsity jacket.

Phoenix wears it, the guy I like.

My favorite color, and it’s not the dark shades of red which don’t really appeal to me. It’s the one shade of red that my eyes are in love with.

He looks good it in.

But he was wearing it the day he broke my heart.

The day I found out he was still friends with his ex-girlfriend. But at the time I didn’t know they were friends. This was the day I thought they got back together.

The day my hope for him became hopeless.

He wore that dumb red varsity jacket.

We had Spanish class that day and that was the first time in that class where we talked throughout the whole 90 minutes. He never completely turned around facing away from me that day (he sat in front of me).

Now, whenever he wears that red varsity jacket I think he’s just going to cause me pain.

The last time he wore it, he was walking towards me after dropping his ex-girlfriend/best friend off at her class.

Can someone please tell me,

why these two guys have to ruin my favorite colors for me?

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the moon.

Every night,

after I say a prayer and turn off my bedside lamp,

I look outside my window.

To look if I can see the moon.

Or a few stars.

On the nights that I can, I bask in their beauty.

I feel better. No matter how my day was- once I see that everything becomes ok.

Or at least it’s calming to think that things are going to turn out okay.

I can sleep peacefully when their presence is near.

It calms me in a way I can’t really describe.

One the nights that I can’t, it breaks my heart a little bit.

But only a little bit, because I know it’s out there somewhere- I just can’t see it out my window.

Maybe it’s in the window of a little girl who really needs its’ comfort.

Maybe it’s protecting a sleeping baby who’s basking in its’ presence.

I might be sad for a second if I don’t see it.

But I have this hope, every time I don’t see it, that I’ll see it tomorrow or some other day.

It eases me knowing that yesterday or the last time I’ve seen the moon won’t be the final time I’ll see it.

Either way, the moon either gives me comfort or hope.

How did God make something so beautiful? I’ll never understand it.

But the good thing is: I don’t have to.

I can just bask in its’ beauty and let it calm my soul.

That’s why I love the moon.

It brings me a serenity I can’t describe.

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