Our relationship never seems to work out
It goes so well, that it's almost perfect
Then falls apart like dry sand
I'm always thinking of you
Even if I don't want to
It's like you're always in my mind
But feels as if I'm not in yours
And something wants us together
But something else wants us apart
I don't know what to be more afraid of
Having you always there
My heart in your hands
Or not having you at all
Crying myself to sleep cause I don't have you by my side
All I know is I might fall so hard
That it could be something strange
And really scary
Called love
But the thing is I don't believe in love anymore
Maybe you could change that?

No one ever really finds me.

If I went throught all the things I’ve ever written about in my poems
I would have time for nothing else. Not stargazing or hymn books,
not boiling soup or breaking apart crabs into tender meat. My mother
has a c-section scar as wide as the moon and two times
as painful. They say birth is supposed to be beautiful, that’s why
the scar is shaped like a smile. Most of what could possibly
happen in the universe to anyone ever
has happened to me. Rest assured that’s not a good thing,
that there is too much salt in this life of mine. Not enough honey
or parsley, not enough neighborhoods full of airports.
As far as I’m aware, nothing of the sort has occurred throughout the entire course of history. Speaking of history
ours is not such a pretty one. I wish you hadn’t done that
and by that we all know what I mean.
Today I climb into my poems like a window. There is one truth
that rises above all others in whatever I write:
I have always been an eclipse. No one ever really finds me.

// I hope you know //

I know I shake when you don’t call and I feel like I can’t breathe when you forget to tell me you love me. I know that sometimes the words that come spilling out of my mouth at 3 AM make me sound crazy. I know that I love you a little too much. I know everything really hurts right now. I hope you know that I will always be here to keep the blood inside your veins. I hope you know that I will always be here to kiss you goodnight even if I fall asleep crying afterwards. I hope you know that you are the only reason I’ve still got stars hidden under my skin. I hope you know that you are the only thing that keeps the flowers in my lungs from dying. I know we’re fucked up. I know that sometimes I make you feel like you’re choking. I hope you know that I’m sorry. I hope you know that I see you in everything. I hope you know that it’s okay. I hope you know that you’re all I want. I hope you know that I think you’re wonderful. I hope you know that I think you’re every sunset and every thunderstorm and every cup of coffee in the universe. I hope you know that you are my entire galaxy. I hope you know that I love you.
everything I know, everything I hope that you know

// Love //

His love for her is so high
But she holds her heart tight
She doesn't want to fall hard
She's afraid of heights

His love for her, like the sun, it shines
Still, she covers her eyes
She doesn't want to get blind

His love for her is so deep
But she doesn't know how to swim
And she doesn't want to sink

I never did

My scars did not lose her, my hurting did
And did not. I did it, maybe, maybe not,
Like losing that one breath over the essence
Of a weak-willed wind, kissing the sad waters.
I did it, like time wasted over saving precious time, like
One of two great doubts has finally believed
In the other, becoming a painful truth,
A shadow, a light, a boat, an anchor, a clocktower,
Like I fully understood a green-colored sun
In a coloring book. But what does it matter?
What veil could hide the melancholic moon
Forever? I love her, like I did, like truly now,
But did not, like her absence anchors me to sanity,
Like missing her was to teach the stars of something,
Something like geography or mythology, like hazards
Buoy me to the chronic pain of safety, like to free-fall,
Quickly, as lightning or the peregrin. I loved her,
Like failing to whistle with two fingers, like
Reinventing Miro's Blue Star at a canvas, over and over,
And bungle at it. I love her, like it means to love her now, like
The urgency of loving me when I cannot love myself,
And she did. She did. I love her, I know,
I only know, because I never did.

And that’s how you’ll know.

Someone will tell you that she’s seeing someone someday and that she’s happy and your hands will stop working. You’ll have to work hard to hold onto whatever you’re holding. I hope it’s not glass, I hope it’s not breakable. Suddenly you’ll remember everything that you ever loved about her. Everything that ever moved you to tears, made your insides feel like they were tying themselves into knots. That she was loyal, that she was open for you, that she smiled against your mouth when you kissed. That it felt easy, like God had put the two of you together deliberately, like it had been the plan all along. 
But for whatever reason, you let her go and you thought that it was the right thing and for a little while, it felt like you knew exactly what you were doing. Except now all the parts of you that touched her knows that you’re never going to be able to touch her again and that hurts. Even your fingers are sad, even your stomach is aching from the loss of it all. 
You’re never going to get that again and that’s why your regret looks like artwork that would have been masterpiece if you’d finished it. Your regret looks like plucking a flower before it’s bloomed. So maybe you’ll call her and you’ll tell her that you miss her and she’ll sound gentle on the phone but not in love with you anymore. She’ll say ‘we happened and we were important but you let me go, I’m sorry, but you let me go’ 
And that’s how you’ll know.