I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving.

love has little to do with blood relations and more to do with who you choose to bleed for

I still wake up with things to tell you.

so the poem hurt you.it was supposed to.

every dream I have about kissing you ends with blood on my hands.

I am going to hurt you.You are going to hurt me.But we will do it with practiced fingersand passionate mouthsand I swear to godit will be worth something.

The poet lusts after emotionally unavailable people because she doesn't have to worry about commitment. The poet desperately wants commitment.

They wanted you to believe that love is weak, that you cannot curse and kiss with the same mouth. They wanted you to believe that the root of love is romance, soft and wide-eyed. See what they did to my stories? My Temples? My statues? Regardless o whether you desire it, love is what sits at the core of the world. It is stronger than greed and hate and jealousy and pain. What brings us together will always be more powerful than what keeps us apart.

I hope one daysomebody loves youso muchthat they see violetsin the bags under your eyes,sunsets in the downward archof your lipsthat they recognize youas something green,something fresh and still growingeven if sometimesyou are growing sidewaysthat they do not waste their timetrying to fix you.