i've never been good with words, but i've always admired people who were

i've always wanted to write something beautiful but everything i write feels forced
and clunky

i sometimes write anyway

two lines
two lines off the face of an android phone
you know, i turn 17 this year
i forget that blood stains. your fingers fumble with the hem of my shirt



hitch
you said can you repeat that, i'm sorry, i wasn't listening.
so i laugh to cover up the fact i called you pretty




BLOOD BLOOMS
BLOOD BLOOMS
wilts
(are you okay? can i hear a little enthusiasm, i'm choking back tears)
i found meaning in the cover of a noise album
i found reason in a practical joke
i feel so close to epiphany
i fell asleep 
(on the floor again. about 2 hours, but i feel like i've been sleeping for years)



cotton
my breathe caught on something you said
three days ago, absentmindedly

run a petal through my fingers 
holding your name under my breath

i hear a muffled cord and a singer curse
i lose my cotton to the wind

when did spring give in to summer?
and flinch

just a couple more hours



cotton 2 (if the world needed another love poem)
if the world needed another love poem

what gives me the right


something romantic in the way the light reflecting 
we promise someday we'll be better than this.
i thought i saw you at the store today


im thrown into another laughing fit, i've lost my train of thought
you smile you say
you know,

i've never been good with words




addendum
still
i guess i'm relieved
because i am nothing, and nothing lasts