I think of you in the morning

I wake up and taste poetry in my mouth,

and that's how I know I have

been dreaming about you again.

There are a thousand planets living in between your eyelashes alone,

but I promise not to love you like you are my

universe.

It would be dishonest,

and you probably deserve better than that.

My mother keeps asking me

why I'm peeling my lips away

to get rid of a name

I've never kissed,

and I still don't have an answer for her yet.

I stopped playing piano in the seventh grade

when my hands started shaking so badly,

I thought they were drunk.

I look for you in raining sunsets

and flowers on other girl's doorsteps.

I can't tell if you are there or not.

I have never asked anyone to stay before,

but that doesn't mean

I don't cry when they leave.

I spend a lot of time writing about people who can't remember

the color of my eyes,

and maybe I should keep things

like that to myself.

We aren't meant to be together in this lifetime,

so we'll have to try again in the next one.

You have to promise me you'll be waiting

because I don't think I can lose you like this

again.

There's only so much poetry

I can write about your hands

before I start to forget

what your love line looks like

and where it leads to.

I've been telling myself this whole time

that it was leading to me.

Maybe I've been wrong.

Please tell me I'm not wrong.