December 2009
2 posts
i hate
that you mean enough to me that you can produce hate in me. you don’t deserve even that.
i hate
you i hate you i hate you i hate you
July 2009
1 post
i love
arguing with you about what music is best and passing the ipod back and forth and feeling your fingers graze mine over and over and over.
June 2009
1 post
i love
how damn beautiful you are. and i feel it more than i see it.
i wish
i could dream next to you.
May 2009
2 posts
i love
love love love love love
when i catch you looking.
April 2009
3 posts
i like
when youre around, waking up the muscles that allow me to smile.
i liked
that today when the rain started pouring and the sky flashed, we both turned and grinned at each other and said i love thunderstorms at exactly the same time and then we leaned out the window together to catch the rain on our fingers.
i love
when you write poems backwards on the chalk board.
March 2009
14 posts
i kind of miss
when my sister’s ex boyfriend showed me how to bike with no handle bars on the beach and we argued over which flavor of salt water taffy tastes best.
i miss
those conversations in the quiet of night; it was a wonderful feeling to get a call at 1 am, to know that i was on your mind. i waited up for you.
i want
you, okay?
i miss
the times you told me your secrets.
i want
you to wrap your fingers around mine. i have imagined it so many times, i can almost feel it. but id like to make it real.
I hate
that youve broken the barrier and crawled back inside my head.
i miss
riding home in your car with my barefoot on the dashboard and the windows down, happy was easy.
i really like
that you sat next to me on the table and even though there was plenty of room you moved so your shoulder was pressed against mine and as we swung our legs our ankles hooked by mistake.
i like
when the pothead who sits next to me in chem talks to me about the rain and his bike riding and i get to look at his blue green eyes and freckle covered face up close.
i miss
having you as a best friend; holding your hand and braiding your hair, sitting on the front porch wrapped in blankets whispering secrets and looking at stars.
i like
you when you’re smiling.
i want
you to wrap your arms around my feeble shoulders to hold me together. i want you to place your hand under my chin and steady my breathing. i want you to smooth your hand over my hair and breathe on my cheek to keep me warm.
i wish
i knew what it feels like to be loved and admired, craved and longed for.
i like
the way you brush your hair off your forehead and the way you show your dimples.
February 2009
53 posts
i love
when you sit next to me on the tile floor and our legs happen to press together or maybe our arms, connection, and you don’t pull away.
i want
you to see me crying and instead of asking what’s wrong you would play my favorite song on the guitar and run your fingers through my hair and catch the tears before the salt could hit my lips.
i wonder
what you would say if you saw me right now, tired eyes and aching body, mind wearing thin and memories fading, but my smile is still the same.
i miss
the softness of your voice when it said my name, just that one word and i felt beautiful.
i want
you to offer me your sweatshirt when the goosebumps rise on my arms just because it’s cliche but also because it would be sweet of you to care.
i love
the way you come to class smelling like coffee and your hands are covered in dried paint and when you touch my papers you leave a trace of rainbow behind.
i really miss
watching movies on your crappy tv that doesn’t really work but that’s okay because it means broken lines of conversation every time the screen freezes.
i love
that for the first time in four years, i look forward to french class. it’s nice, seeing someone’s face light up just a little when they see you, feeling like at least someone notices.
and i hate
how much i cry over you.
you’re not worth my tears, i don’t think, but that doesn’t stop me.
i hate
that you called me tonight, and my heart jumped into my throat because i hadnt seen your name on the screen of my phone in weeks, and i answered and talked to you and o, and then you realized that you called the wrong sophie. it breaks me heart, that i miss you this much, and you didnt even care enough to keep talking, you just hung up.
i want
my photos to read like poetry.
i also like
when senior boy puts his head down on the desk during class and dazes off and he smiles a little and i can only imagine what he’s dreaming but there’s something really nice about being next to someone who is happy and at peace.
i like
watching the senior who sits next to me in chem with freckles all over his nose and big headphones bike home from school every day because he looks so free weaving through traffic with a huge smile and sometimes he makes me want to spread my arms in the wind and run.
i miss
your eyes. eyes like the ocean, blue and green and grey, always changing and always shining.
i love
lying in bed with rain tapping my window pane and watching the stars on my ceiling glow.
i love
making cootie catchers at lunch and pretending its 3rd grade again.
i love
lovelovelove happy coincidences and happy accidents.
i really miss
seeing your face look a little teeny bit jealous on new years when you reached out to me but t and e got to me first, and after i took my time to get back to you, you looked even happier to see me and maybe you understood for one fraction of a second what its like to not have to the one you want.
i want
you to see me like this, with two messy french braids and no makeup, wearing my plaid pajama pants with a rip down the side and a too small too short university shirt, and i want you to think im beautiful.
i love
the really gorgeous lifeguard boy at practice with shiny hair who wears collared shirts unbuttoned and walks barefoot and sometimes he smiles at me when he catches me looking.
i hate
looking in the mirror and wanting to blind my eyes so i wont have to look at my face anymore.
i wonder
if you remember going up to your room and while s and s and h where talking we were searching under your bed for something but i cant remember what, all i remember is being across from you and we stayed there for a while, our heads under where you sleep, and just looked at each other.
i miss
lying next to you on the couch with your head on my shoulder and my hand next to yours but not quite touching and nothing but the sound of our breath, in and out.
i really miss
your hugs that lifted me off the ground.
i dream
of letting you go.
i hate
looking out my window through the crisscross tree branches and seeing every window in your house dark. i hate that youre never home anymore, and the only time the light comes on is at 2 am.
and i like
that at the end of the night when we left, i asked you which way you were going to walk and you said it didnt matter, you would walk whatever way took me home.