Welcome to Wonderland

you love her wild. she taught you how to  caress fire, and tasted like a Sunday afternoon, you poisoned yourself  to be with her, when all she wanted  was to be alone. 

time is relative and pain comes in waves when i shut my eyes i dream of you and when i don’t, it hurts less where can i find the warmth to  replace you in other boys  whose arms don’t  feel quite as warm and safe where do i go  to see the stars when you are not  there to name the  constellations

i was what you made  me out to be weak quiet i don’t belong  so i don’t have a right to sit here in this public place next to you. but here i stand  unbroken stronger just strong enough to stand up for the others who haven’t found their voice yet -  who will in time.

so you’ll never feel the same again, that’s okay. each love feels different,  because each experience teaches you new lessons. if you learn from them,  leaving won’t hurt less, but loving again will. 

she was built to withstand typhoons, crafted from the atoms that danced in the galaxies,  dust, bone, sweat, blood, shaped with the emotions, and candor of her father, body and mind traced back to the generations of strong women before her. do you think she cannot withstand you? 

The truth comes out Not when you are angry But in the questions you ask When you are not.

If you're reading this, Fuck you For pretending you Don't already know.

I won’t make a sound when you leave, tunneling your way through the thick skull you always said I had. When you leave, that is it. I’ll delete every single piece of evidence to your existence. And to the things I cannot burn, the memories and the jewelry you used to burrow under my skin and bones. I will save them in glass boxes, to remind me that we’re no good for each other.

i am a mountain my grandpa always told me i am stubborn, unmoved. you are an avalanche you run recklessly endangering hearts, unnoticed. together, we hurt.

i spend a lot of time thinking about “what if’s” And “how come’s” i wonder what you think of me now that i’ve grown i wonder if you still think of me when you bike across the country and say, “she would’ve loved these stars.” because didn’t you once say, you wished i was there? is that still true?

shared my book with you but i wonder if you've ever turned the pages. did you skip to the part where i admitted i loved you? and forget why we always revert to arguments over who does more for the other person? i never want you to find out how much i loathe us sometimes... it would destroy any remaining love in this relationship.