I would be okay if I never loved again.
Understanding, even.
I loved him so much,
that if he's the only one I got
in this lifetime,
it would be a fair deal.

-10/1/2017

I should've loved you better,
louder.

I should've laid fear to bed,
prayed over its corpse
and then released the joy
in front of God
and everyone.
I should've shared all the poems
and never, ever stopped kissing you.

For the second on earth,
that we had this little magic thing,
I should've loved you better.

-9/3/2017

I love you 

I love you 

I love you 

I used to think that no one on earth, 

has ever loved anyone,

as much as I loved DTR.

No one could possibly understand. 

It was the most consuming, life changing, beautiful thing to ever happen to anyone,

And I got it so early.

The feelings overwhelmed my little body, 

I had no where to put them,

so it physically hurt.

It physically hurt

How much I loved him.

Time moved differently 

when we were in our world,

speaking our language.

It was the most magic 

a human could possibly feel.

So a long time a ago,

I realized this was never going to happen to me again.

Not in this lifetime.

Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice 

but I was the luckiest girl on earth,

to have even had it once.

But something unimaginable happened,

It happened again.

I can’t breathe and my chest hurts and time isn’t real.

It happened again.

It can happen again.

I love you

I love you

I love you

This feeling

has me convinced

no other person

in all the history books

has ever

ever loved anyone

as much as I love him.

This tidal wave

has swept me up

twice in life.

And it feels the same today,
as it did twelve years ago.

It takes my breath,

my words,

my control.

I can’t move,
I can't breathe because

Everything is him.

Everything is him.

I remember being 15

and reading this part in Twilight.

I didn’t finish the book,

I don’t read that well,

But I remember this part.

It’s when Bella wakes up in the hospital.

Edward is there checking on her.

He finally can see that she’s okay,

so he starts to excuse himself,

like a gentleman respectful of her privacy.

My heart stopped for her.

Oh no. I thought.

And she said the only thing my quiet heart would’ve said:

“No, you can’t leave. You can't, ever, leave.”

“Ok.” He said.

And that was that.

He stayed.

That’s what I would say to you,

if it was safe.

I wouldn’t tell you anything I don't know
to be true.

I would just say,

“Please,

please,

stay.”

And I think you would.

I’m pretty sure you would.

When I’m sad

I just want to crawl under a blanket of you

and turn off the lights.

We won’t talk very much.

That was never really our thing.

We will just lie

and play with each other’s hair

and maybe one of us will cry

while the other one whispers, 

“Shhhhh,” 

until we fall asleep.

Sometime we’ll need

to heal so deeply

that we'll fall asleep with our lips

touching
just slightly,

breathing in each other’s air

just relieved to be this close.

To be truly known is a rare thing for an introvert.

But to be truly known 

and truly loved by an 

equally guarded introvert

is a making of our own world,

an invention of our own language.

All my angels visit me in August,

this never changes.

All of my mothers gather around 

as our sun sets on another year,

they pray over my sticky skin

full of concern 

as all mothers are.

They always start by thanking Mary for my body, 

they are so proud that I inherited their chest and hands.

Always with the chest and hands.

I guess I understand.

We all find something ironically holy about bodies

and I feel that my soul is weaved 

into every pore of mine.

So I join them

and we thank the stars for my 

beating body of soul.

They pray next

just for my legs.

That I will stop opening them

for strangers

and adulterers. 

They say the wetness and hardness and

biting and lying won’t fill anything.

They say to stop this abusive facade 

because it’s going to hurt either way.

They say it’s going to hurt either way.

I don’t know about all that. 

But mostly 

they pray for that crack

in my heart

that never fully healed.

See a long time ago

all my mothers

decided to send me my

ocean of love

when I was still a girl.

I’ve never understood

and they’ve never explained.

They must’ve thought I was wiser than I was.

They believed I was ready

and I let them down.

It didn’t work out how anyone thought.

It’s one of those mistakes 

that never really leaves a family.

So they all pray it heals,

every year,

and I close my eyes 

because I can’t see them 

be scared.