According to my friends, you're one of the most awkward looking guys they've ever seen.

Skinny as all get out. Around 6 feet tall. Can't match clothing for the life of you. Bad skin. Heavy brows and close-together eyes. Giant ears and hook nose. Unfortunate hair cut. More like a comic book character than anything.

But when I look, all I see is the quick wit in your deep brown eyes, your contagious smile, and the way your hair sticks up just a little in the back of your head. I used to pat it down all the time. I see your golden skin and your confidence and the way you can always seem to make people laugh.

Beautiful. Everything. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

I love trying to count every single freckle on your arm.

I love the way you fix your hair after I mess it up.

I love how you try and convince me you aren't ticklish but I touch your armpit and you squeal like a little girl.

I love how proud you are when you shave and tell me to feel your cheeks and then every time you say "that's for you fi" while you rub the back of my hand on your face.

I love when you genuinely smile. Not for pictures, or when you're posing. But I catch you smiling with all your teeth every once in a while and when I asked you why you don't always smile like that you said you don't like your smile. Well I love it.

I love when you pretend like you're going to kiss me and then put your whole mouth over my nose and blow and it makes me snort. That will never ever ever fail to make me laugh.

I love you.

Forget the dirty talk, you just keep talking about how much you love Bach, because it's sexy as hell. 

When I first met you, I thought I hope that I don't mess this up because all I do is mess things up, but I never thought it would mess me up.

i'm in love with my best friend

i'm in love with her hair, long and curly and untamed, her light brown eyes, her unfaltering, possibly fake grin, her ivory skin and the few beauty marks lined on her body

i'm in love with her voice, her loud and obnoxious, sporadic laughter, the way she sounds when she cries, how she sighs, and how her singing gives me goosebumps

i'm in love with her words, her inflections, her strength in music and in simple lines on pages

i'm in love with the way she crumbles. she is my supernova, exploding, shining brighter than the sun ever could. she fades but she returns.

i'm in love with the tears, her strange addictions, her long hands that once held me carefully

and though i can't have her now

the way she holds me in my dreams is enough to keep me grounded


Who needs math notes?
I'll just doodle your name over and over again.
That seems proactive.

I can't stop thinking about her; her hair, her eyes, her laugh. She accidentally put a spell on me, and she doesn't have a reversal. People say that 12 year olds can't love, but I know I love her. I stay awake at night thinking about her, I cry about how she isn't in my life at all. I can't stop looking at her, and when we talk, my stomach flutters like there are a million hummingbirds flying around in there. I write songs and poems about her, and all the stars in space, and all the grains of sand still cannot count my love for her. But what do I know? I'm only twelve.

I have a tendency to love things that I know are no good for me.

Coffee can sometimes make me literally double over in stomach pain, but I continue to drink without a second thought.

Junk food makes me feel like I'm drinking pitchers of grease, but I continue to eat without a second thought.

He makes me feel like I'm worshipping a brick wall, but I continue to love without a second thought. 


A toast.

To the beautiful ones, the ones that I see in grocery stores, classrooms, sidewalks, buses, planes, waiting rooms, the world.
To all those unknowing souls that gave my heart a midnight fever and my head a run for its money.
To eyes and smiles and laughs that weren't meant for me but I hold onto regardless.
To the ones that turned my stomach into knots because they existed.
To the ones that someday will help remind me that I am beautiful, from my lips to all my secret parts that I don't so easily show the world.
To the one? If you are a passenger of brave, cruel world. I will be where I have always been.
To the ones who I love, to the ones who I will love, to the ones I loved.

May your days be a blaze of glory without the fear of burning out.


I've always settled for everything in my life. Where I'm going to live, who I live with, where I get my food, and who I'm friends with. My career choices, my life choices, almost everything had been decided to for me, and I've never had the chance to say anything in protest yet. It's even gotten to the point where most of the time I don't even care, because there's nothing I can do to stop it. But the one thing I had promised myself that I would never settle for was the man I was going to date. Who I put my lips on first will never be decided for me. Who I'll have my first time with will never be decided for me. Who I fall in love with will never be decided for me. That is the one thing I will always fight for when someone says different, and it will be the one thing I will make my own choice about. Now I've made my choice. And I chose you. Now I'm just waiting for you to choose me.