for the boy who exhales downbeats and cadences.

i.
2:31 am.
I always begin poems with the time of night, begging broken gods for shameless excuses for brutal honestly.

I write in glitter and kiss the page; this is for the boy I see in each photon reflected by my irises. three lines in is too early for confessions, especially the sort that comes from fingers bleeding from the countless attempts. so forgive me for the way I look at you,

I know you’re used to better things than a girl with sundamaged vision and glassy eyes; even if they’re only meant for you.



ii.
I wore bulletproof sunglasses and took candy from strangers; I was afraid of being hurt but I needed someone to trust.

I was always the quiet girl in the corner, camouflaged like dogeared pages and empty lungs, watching you breathe like i never could.

things shattered, you saw through self-imposed invisibility to a wraith tied together with a smile and coming undone.
you made me walk on tightropes without safety nets and taste each atom in the air. you made me fearless; you made me live;

I am addicted.



iii.
like blueyed pills in an unmarked bottle, you came with no warning label. you pulled me in with your melodic voice and thrashcore soul. you taught me what it was like to shout wordless lyrics to pitch black skies and run red lights.

I wanted to be yours, not just tonight, but forever. you showed me that some drugs were worth dying for. going home at night thinned the line between separation anxiety and withdrawal symptoms.



iv.
then,
I learned that I wasn’t the only one with battered dreams of perfection and shy tendencies toward feeling unwanted. since the day I met you I understood that corresponding empty spaces locked our bruised frames together to try to supply what we each lacked. but I didn’t know how to cure you or show you the path through the dark—

you were my reason for breathing, but not your own, and I didn’t know how to be yours.



v.
but for the boy with the glacier eyes and the starbursts erupting from his vocal chords, I resolved to try.

the bass from your words resounded in my chest cavity—no music had ever felt so real. I was going to be your empress, show you the way, beyond divination towards some sort of destiny that I would write you in stumbling prose.



vi.
to this day I don’t know if that’s enough to save you. but I swear to you that I will stand beside you till all stars fall from the sky, I will wait for you until apocalyptic words bring it all crashing down and the supernovas of your love fade to black. 

I will be the stitches for every scar you make, I will be the melody for every song you ever sing, I will be here for you until the end of days. 



vii.
2:32 am.
I let confused emotions bury my secret because I’m afraid of rejection and dreams that don’t come true. you will never read late night words uttered by butterfly lips and etched by bleeding fingers, one last effort. but maybe someday you’ll understand, the glaciers of your eyes will finally see into the shallow springs of my own, you will feel the way this love scorches the cracked porcelain around my heart and hear how I cry out your name in all my dreams.


I’ll be waiting.