pure love


you’re so full of conflicting ideas

i don’t know how you’re not in a constant, endless battle with yourself.

you proudly claim you don’t think about the future – not even tomorrow,

but then have the audacity to confuse me by throwing around the word forever as though it’s nothing coming from your mouth.

as if it’s just another word.

what does forever mean to you, darling?

because i see years and years of love when i look into your eyes.

i just want to know if you see the same when you look at mine.



take advantage

I have come to the realization, at this point in my life and truly at any point ; I am in no position to ever deny myself any bit of happiness.

I have been in a place over and over where happiness felt so far away from my grasp,

A place where simply existing in this world felt exhausting.

And all of us only get to be on this planet for so long, to not be in a constant state of being in love with living would be a sin.

Wear your absolute favorite shirt two days in a row because it makes you smile when you look in the mirror.

Kiss the boy who makes your head spin and your heart dizzy.

Spend the extra money on getting a good coffee.

Wake up earlier then you normally would to make a breakfast that makes you feel good.

Fall in love too often.

Skip class a couple of times, it’s not the end of the world.

Read books that force you to think about things differently and make you want to change your life. 

Dance in the middle of an empty street.

Go for late night drives with the windows down as the street lights cast a glow on your face. 

Play whatever music you want, as loud as you want, whenever you want. 

Take pictures of your friends smiling, eating their favorite food, and just being alive ; put them all around your room as a constant reminder that you are loved by so many. 

and remember through all of the storms you’ll have to face in this life, you’ll be okay.

more than okay.


pure love


what are you so afraid of?

he asks me, putting my hands into his lap.

i want is to say nothing and move on, pretend like my fears aren’t in my belly whispering things to me i don’t want to think about every day.

but i know he’s worth more than that.

you are the first person i have wanted to truly give anything to; let it be my trust, my love, my insecurities, my scars, my baggage, my pain, or my sadness. you are the first person i have felt like i could truly exist as who i am around you without worrying about being forced to change. i met you and then suddenly you were this person who i wanted to tell everything. you make life a little easier to live because i know when things go wrong, you’ll be right there to hold me. at the beginning of us, all i could feel were butterflies in my stomach and now it’s just simply a sense of calm when you’re around. you are simultaneously my best friend and lover. so I’m scared of loving you as much as i do for the rest of my life and never finding anyone who is good enough after you leave. how could i, when you’re the one thing to make me feel the most alive?

a breath escapes me, as i close my eyes and wait for him to get up and leave. waiting for him to say this is too much for him, this wasn’t what he wanted or ever wants.

all he does is traces my face with his hands gently and says,

before you, i never understood people being in love. i said it to girls because they expected those words to come out of my mouth at some point in the relationship. i never meant it though. but the minute i heard your voice and saw your smile for the first time, i got it. everything suddenly made sense. you were the answer to any question life asked me. you are always the brightest person in the room, and i still can’t believe you allow me to stand next to you and hold your hand when you’re shining. don’t you dare ever think i’m the person who’s going to change your life or make you see things differently than before, because that’s you. you’re the one to change me and the direction of where i once thought my life was headed. i wouldn’t trade that for the world. 




a drop in the ocean

you say you haven’t cried for years,

and you hold yourself so high because you feel like you need to.

but you also say your favorite universe is the one we share together,

and i am your bright place.

even if it’s a lie,

would you please just tell me you’ll shed a couple of tears when we end?

because shedding a couple of tears is an understatement of what will happen to me,

i will crumble and weep entire oceans.

pure love

and you’re worth it

people will tell you to look before you foolishly fall, making sure you can trust them with your heart.

that isn’t really sound advice though, because you will never have a clue if you can as you’re falling for their smile when they talk about what they love, their voice saying how much they miss you, and their eyes whenever they look into yours.

it’s all about who you’re willing to take the risk of it breaking for.


the answer is you

i think we get so caught up in the idea of love

but a very specific kind.

we are constantly seeking a prince charming to come and save us from anything, even when anything is our self.

you wanna be let in on a little secret?

no girl needs a boy to rescue her.

no boy needs a girl to fix him.

no boy needs a boy, no girl needs a girl.

the person who can love you the most and bring you the most peace,

is yourself. 


art isn’t always pretty

if you’re with a writer,

undoubtedly you want them to write about you.

be careful with what you wish for though.

be wary of your expectations of what it means when they do.

because yes, they will write about you.

they’ll describe you as a raw human being,

the sun filtering through a window.

they’ll tell whimsical stories about your hands and lips.

they’ll blanket you in words of fascination and allure, reaching a point where you don’t even think you’re the person they’re describing anymore.

but writers are emotional wrecks and we naively allow ourselves to feel everything ; regardless of the weight it puts on us and how it makes mascara stain our cheeks.

they’ll describe you as a drug they get withdrawals from,

the raging storm of a hurricane.

they’ll tell stories of shattered glass and locked doors.

they’ll wrap you in words of rage and jealousy, and now you don’t recognize the person behind the scribbled words of a notebook page.

you take it for what it is ; a form of art.

and art isn’t always pretty.

you take them for what they are ; art in all forms.



what now

it’s 3 in the morning and i can’t sleep,

so i resort to talking to the sky and asking her how i can possibly move on

when there is nothing you haven’t touched, especially me.

what am i supposed to do, rub my skin raw until i can no longer feel you?

well i’ve tried that.

it only leaves me with scratch marks, and even through the tenderness of my skin

all i can feel is you.



i’d rather have you

we always used to have silly, little fights about who loved each other more.

coming up with reasons like who called first the most,

who was the one who hung up,

which one looked at the other longer when they weren’t paying attention,

and who looked back when we said goodbye everytime.

now sitting on my kitchen floor, sobbing with a gaping whole in my chest where my heart used to be

i realize i was never the one to pull away first in a kiss.

but winning doesn’t mean much to me now.

and losing doesn’t seem to bother you either.


without a trace

if you woke up tomorrow and i was gone

what would you remember about me?

how i took my coffee in the morning, iced with a splash of cream

or the days that turned into weeks where i didn’t call you back.

what i was wearing the first night we kissed parked in my driveway

or what i looked like when i my hands let go of your face for the last time.

what i said to you at two in the morning pleading for you not the hang up the phone

or how i choked on my words when i said how much i couldn’t stop needing you and how much that scared me.

the hidden poems i wrote in book pages about you and stars and fluttering eyelashes

or the letters you got full of im sorrys and forgive me for being this way. 

the song playing in your car the first time i said i love you

or how mad you were driving down the roads of my street after i told you i couldn’t do this anymore.

the times i took your hand and snuck into a stairwell to escape from everything

or when escaping from everything included you too.

when we got screamed at to stay away from each other, but never listened

or how looking back, you wished we would have.

pure love

my vinyl

you remind me of all the vinyl scattered on the floor of my apartment.

of course, i could use cds or a speaker to listen to music.

there’s just something about the raw and vulnerable sound of the needle scratching the record, like the gentle brush of your fingertips.

the melodies of voices and sounds, like your laugh filling the room or your voice humming something only for me to hear.

the spiraling rotations of it going round and round, like my thoughts trying to wrap around the idea of you somehow wanting me over anyone else.

it might not be the most rational thing to use to hear the lyrics of the songs i hold close to my heart, but it sure is the loveliest way.

you might not be the most rational person to fall for or build anything around, but you sure are the only person i’d want it to be.



our happy ending

things right now may seem messy,


and draining on us ; causing you and i to wonder when the happy ending will come, or if it will even come at all.

we are so young to be thinking such heavy thoughts, but the world has not been always been the kindest to us.

endings aren’t always happy : fate is tempted and lost, i love you’s fade, half of the bed is empty with tangled sheets, papers are signed with bleeding ink and a bleeding heart, and waking up every morning is a collision of realizations taking the breath away from your lungs.

you know bad things happen to bright people and i know people will preach they love you and leave without a second thought.

our outlook is a little skewed because of these things, and to believe the sun will rise another day is sometimes a miracle.

all i know is that you crying in the light of my car about the chaos of being us is not the end.

we deserve so much more than that.



mine for now

of course, i know i am not the first one you have ever fallen for and i would be lying if i said you were the first for me too.

i know the past is the past and we both made decisions or chose the wrong people before each other,






if the idea of you touching someone else makes me sick.

shaking me awake in the middle of the night, because i can’t stand the thought of one day just being another story like the ones you tell now.

pure love

sorry but i fell in love tonight

that night driving down the highway in a blur of lights

with one hand on the steering wheel and the other intertwined with mine,

you asked me where my favorite place is.

at the time, i of course said new york because of the undeniable energy in the air.

but if you asked me the same question now,

my answer would be sitting in the passenger seat of your car ; because for some reason

somewhere as mundane as that made me feel more alive than a city of 8.6 million people.



the new year

the idea of the new year is so admirable,

but so misleading.

limiting the beginning of change to a countdown

on one single day out of the other three-hundred and sixty four we have.

you don’t have to wait until january first to become who you want to become.

you can have your own new years the minute you realize you aren’t growing,

aren’t happy,

or when you know there are better parts of yourself to be shown to the world.

so raise a glass,

drink your champagne,

and celebrate who you are just as much as who you have yet to become whenever you please

– don’t limit yourself to one chance per year