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I’m still getting used to saying your name
I still blush when you say mine
I’m still yet to make the connection between you calling me
And the fact that it’s me you’re calling.

I still look away when you look my way,
Look down to hide this smile I think is showing.

Pardon me for staring,
Your lashes– they’re so pretty when they curl up,
And when you smile, the way you smile when you’ve got a good night’s sleep
Or filled with bliss for reasons unknown–
When you smile that smile and look at me,
My heart flutters just a tiny bit and I know I am where I wanna be.

I wish you don’t notice that I notice but at least I only stare when you aren’t.

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When You Tell Me You Like Me

When you tell me you like me.

When you tell me you like me,
I stop myself from asking why.
I would love to know, love to know you,
Love to know myself through you,
But I am scared.

Scared to know what it is that you like about me,
Scared to know what it means about the other things about me.

When you tell me you like me,
I stop myself from asking why.
I’m terrified to know, love to know you,
Terrified to know myself through you,
And I am scared.

Scared one day I’ll stop being the me you like.
Scared one day you’ll stop liking me when I stop being the me you like.

When you tell me you like me,
I stop myself from asking why.
I would love to know, love you know you,
Terrified that I’d love to know myself through you.

Scared this innocent curiosity is narcissism rearing is ugly head.
Scared this wonder is nothing but a stroke to my ego, saying, “Tell me more.”

When you tell me you like me,
I stop myself from asking why.
I get conscious and shy, all-red and flustered,
I am happy that you tell me so but now I cannot look you in the eyes.
I would furrow my brows and sigh but inside my heart is smiling, my face getting hot by the moment—

 

I am breathless.

 

When you tell me you like me,
I stop myself from asking why.

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I feel so much better now
As my eyes smile with my lips
          and empty smiles are now happy sighs
          and it’s beautiful.

You’re a fresh start
You’re from somewhere I know no one,
You’re from somewhere I am no one,
          detached from my past or friends or anything
          and it’s beautiful.

You’re a new beginning
And the past doesn’t seem to bother me anymore
          not yours, not mine, not anything,
          and for the first time in a long while nothing matters and I’m happy
          nothing matters and we’re happy and it’s beautiful.

go.

I go back to wondering if I said something wrong
Or uninteresting, or less profound,
Something undeserving of a response or anything,
I wonder and I,
I realize what this is.

I go back here feeling anxious,
Drum beating in my chest, my ears hot,
Face flushed, and I don’t know why,
Until I do,
And I realize what this is.

And for a moment I consider the possibilities,
The what if’s, the could be’s,
The truth that it may possibly happen,
If I let it happen,
And I don’t know if I don’t want it to happen.

My heart aches and I am scared and I smile foolishly,
And chastise myself from this folly,
No–
I don’t know.

No One Likes You

No one likes you.
Emotional, irrational, sensitive,
You are a butterfly 
When the rest of the world is a strong gust of wind,
Ready to break your wings at any moment of weakness. 

No one likes you.
Your childish charms and quirks don’t work anymore,
This is the real world now and you have been left behind —
A lone leaf in this world of bricks and stones and marbles.

No one likes you.
You think they’d care but no– you are living in a fictional world
Where people have time for your follies and paroxysms, no —
They just don’t notice those now, they just don’t notice those now.

No one likes you.
See this is why you lie in bed, alone, at this hour,
When entwined hearts would whisper their devotions, you listen to the sound of the quiet street outside,
And you wonder things you’ve always pushed to the back of your mind.

No one likes you.
You hurt yourself with these words and thoughts and yet you continue writing,
Afraid to realize that you may be worthless if it weren’t for these poems you write, 
Words you’re too scared to say that you’d rather write it down in the hopes that the recipient would one day read it,
You pause and wonder, but still, you write.

No one likes you.
You do not even like yourself, you hate yourself, you wish you could stop but you couldn’t. 
You whisper to yourself, “You’re worthless,”  because you’re sad,
And you’re scared that you’re starting to believe it.

No one likes you.
It’s an easy excuse for when you’ve isolated yourself and you’ve been hurt, you’re afraid 
And you do not know how to say, “Hey, this is me. I am miserable and I hate it, but I have been doing so well no one would believe me.”

No one likes you.
This is a lie you say when it is convenient, 
To blame it on others when you know you’re just lonely and are partly to blame.
A scapegoat for when you do not know how to ask for what you need, 

“No one likes you.” 

Cold

Cold.
My toes curled under the sheets,
Arms shivering,
I am cold.

Cold.
I see darkness where others see light,
What have I been doing wrong,
I am cold.

Cold.
It is a descent,
Slow and invisible,
I am cold.

Cold.
I know not why,
Just that it is,
I am cold.

Downhill

Inexplicably sad
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stare and breathe
Never close to what I need

Inexplicably sad
Don’t ask why
Undeniably mad
Couldn’t tell anyone why

Inexplicably sad
Couldn’t take it easily
Undeniably mad
I’m not ready

Inexplicably sad
Everything hanging on a balance
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stop the tears

Inexplicably sad
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stare and breathe.