i am the love letter. lillian grace

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i am the love letter - lillian grace

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like your arm wasn’t on mine and your face wasn’t inches away from my face and the computer right in front of us was not open to the hulu screen it was not there at all what are you talking about

      I mean I just think I imagined it differently, the first time I would have a girl sitting in my bed next to me

      she would be quiet or maybe she’d be loud or she would speak her mind in mindful and modest doses but she would speak to me and be just as confused as I was just as confused as to why she was sitting on my bed on a thursday night in the humidity of the summer just returned from a poetry reading that neither of us really enjoyed

      but she wasn’t you don’t worry you were headstrong and strong and you sat there like you had a purpose in my life a throne you were waiting to claim

      I was still putting the pieces together

      Jigsaw; Requires the assembly of oddly shaped interlocking and tessellating pieces.

      I don’t know how well we fit together me and you I mean I never quite wanted people to see us together even now I bring you up to my friend on a sweltering afternoon and it takes her a minute to remember we were even together and it’s not just her it’s me too

      it’s weird that way how I thought we gelled so well we snapped together but even now I talk to my best friend and remember how she stopped talking to me because she knew just how bad you were for me

      even now I try to tell myself I knew just how bad you were

      Jigsaw; Must reassemble a picture.

      theoretically we should have clicked theoretically you were the one to hold me together in my darkest moments and theoretically you watched me enjoy my best ones

      in reality our minds were from very different puzzles I think mine was a tad more complex one of those big 5000 piece ones that I love to do that have some really cool picture with vibrant colors where a ton of shades of blue are used and they’re really goddamn confusing but so rewarding I think you were more a…rustic cabin scene maybe a 500 piece-er I could’ve finished you in a day

      I mean theoretically you were the one to make me feel whole but I mean…all my pieces were there in the first place yours just made it a hell of a lot more confusing

      today

      today i wrote three words on my arm:

       strong

       willed

       young

       and right now it seems that’s all i want to be

       see the parts of songs that hit me the hardest are the calm within the storm or the storm that finds a way to interrupt the calm but when i listen to them i can’t do anything else because i am entranced

       i keep wishing i could write more about love because love makes people create such amazing things. but there is no love that deserves my words right now. i need to end this saga of poems about the girl who i saw today and walked in the opposite direction of. she doesn’t deserve this art. i am tired of handing it to her.

       i want to write a poem about how much i love my generation but i realize the wrong people will hear it for the people i love are the ones who don’t even know my name

       it’s been three months since i’ve seen my sister and i never realized how much it took out of me until i was lying in bed at 5:00 tonight and wishing she was here

       i smelled smoke when i walked upstairs thirty minutes ago and there was no panic. i don’t know what i felt. there’s no energy left for fear. maybe that’s good for me.

       i’m trying i swear. i just lose sight of where i’m going because i am so afraid of where i am. someone teach me to be fearless.

       i sat down to write and couldn’t. all i did was complain. who am i becoming where is the girl i knew why has she left me i need her i need her i need her

       please talk to me. tell me about your day. rant to me. i want to hear it. you’re the best person in my life. please.

       i’m tired. but i will likely stare at my computer screen all night and pray that sleep will find a girl who isn’t looking for it.

      laundry list

      you are a laundry list in my head

      I wish i didn’t remember the little things about you

      and trust me, I’ve read way too many sad love poems saying how hard it is to forget someone like you

      and trust me, I think 98% of them are written at 4 am when their mind is on you because that’s what people do at 4 am

      and trust me, 4 am is not the right time to figure out your life. 4 pm is. or some other time when you see the sun and not the moon

      but you do not cross my mind at 4 am. instead i dream of boys with artistic minds and girls who don’t hide from themselves. I dream of beautiful people who will look at my art with a critical eye and not a loving one. or maybe both.

      you pop into my head at 2 pm when the only thing open on my computer is a health assignment that I have no interest in doing

      you show up when I’m scrolling through instagram after a chem test and for some reason a girl got her haircut like you. and I look at her for a moment and refresh. and refresh. and refresh

      because goddamnit instagram just because I search for pictures of her doesn’t mean I want to actually see her

      I did once. maybe twice. maybe not.

      I have a google doc that is a list woven from her and my heartstrings

      it tells me secrets that she spoke under her breath when she thought no one else would notice them

      she hates the taste of coffee. she fidgets every single second of the day. she loves numbers. she feels tingly when she eats minty things. she types at 58 words per minute. she loves bagels and walking in circles. she always checks for trolls under bridges.

      I never quite realized how much information I had about her until she wasn’t mine.

      there are particles of hope hidden behind every huge paragraph

      I wrote her letters upon letters upon letters telling her I’m sorry telling her I love her telling her I don’t want to lose something that I just realized I had

      writing things like:

       “I’m messy…Hella messy. I suck at making plans because I’m a crazy introvert who isn’t used to devoting this much of her time to a single person…I’m messy…I’m not good at making the first move. I’m not good at making a scene. But some part of you makes me want to make a scene everywhere I go and that’s kind of incredibly beautiful. I don’t like to stand out, but, god, I want to stand out to you…I’m messy…But I promised you that once summer started, we’d try to figure it out. We’re going to figure it out. I hate cleaning up messes, but, I mean, this one is one that I look forward to finishing. And honestly, I look forward to being in love with you the way there.”

      I told her I was in love with her

      I

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