we write because we don't want to be afriad
his jean jacket hugs his shoulders
as he touches the brim of his red ball cap
in the only goodbye i’ll ever get from him
and he shoots me one last smirking grin
his rover keys swinging around his index finger
always an adrenaline junkie living off of caffeine
and petal-to-the-metal surges of feelings
that in the end
i never could give him
there was no suddenness to our end:
no avalanche of heated arguments
or a sudden loss of feelings in a terrifying drop
no
we ended so slowly that
i sometimes catch myself thinking
that i spent over two lifetimes with you
but in neither did you ever love me
her belly folds like an accordion
the purple lightning bolts of her thighs touching tile
as a yellow handle of a glorified razor is clasped in her palm
which she she uses to desperately shave the golden fur on her legs
(the last proof that she has relations with the lioness)
mw- lemonade, porch swings, pinky promises, hot baths, baggy t-shirts, wildflowers, accoustic guitar, starry nights, chacos, novels, pumpkin pie, ankle bracelets, beach towels, field guides, skinny diping, sharpie tattoos, short hair, polariod photos, string lights, campfire smoke, feminist quotes, post cards, poetry, ripped jean shorts, skipping stones, big laughs, fireworks,kitchen dancing, sweaters, orange cream popcicles, sassy sayings, rain boots, sunscreen, tangled sheets.
jj- spicy foods, sprite, xbox, rock, edm, pop, piano, converse, oversized t-shirt’s, hoodies, joggers, sweatpants, long hair, piercings, fairy lights, polaroids, beats, christmas trees, bonfires, pumpkin, pancakes, skate parks, skateboarding, trust issues, blushing, loving, giggling, messy buns, books, writing, magic, procrastination, chevron, stripes, paint, fashion designing, supernovas, galaxies, milky way, stars, astrology, universe, planets, friends.
•all poetry is original, do not copyright•
we used to watch//cringy movies just for the//heck of it and// wear thrift store jelwery// to homecoming// while hiding converses beneath our golden tulle dresses// at the winter dance// and people knew us by our// colorful socks and chacos in the bathroom//peeking underneath the stall door// but now we let our black ankle socks// bunch in our high tops// as we try not to tap our foot in// algebra class// as we try to find x// but really// we need to be trying to find ourselves again//because we somehow lost them along the way// there is no us anymore
dai 