Tragic Crushes

Crushes can feel like daisies, but sometimes all they are is a mistaken mirage of misery.


We laid
pressed against wild flowers
between our fingers, petals crept in
and above us were clouds tumbling into shapes

We read Kurt Vonnegut novels
well you did— I only said that I did
as you played Damien Rice’s latest album on your Ipod

You said, it was ironic, to behave for pretension’s sake
your afternoon delights were an eccentric’s dream
and you drew me into a vortex for play
as if we were characters on an independent film

You had refined taste and manner
taste for European desserts
and an acquired taste for wine and art

We only seemed to befriend
dramatic thespians, sleepy singers, and social outliers
the world I found in you, felt pertinent
substantially pertinent for my coming of age

I was at a loss near you
I had no airs to navigate a masquerade
I could only emulate you
so you became me

But you abandoned me and left me behind so easily
I should have known
just as your whimsy came and went
for your latest thrifted purchase
so could your delight for me
and it did

I was left alone with all the things you gave to me
and I used them all
to play pretend


I can’t stop picking petals off of my flowers at the thought of you
Hoping my childish wishes come true

Your color. All of your colors burn chromatically all over my skin,
when I am with you
I seep into your existence

Every piece of me feels your power, your color, your magnitude
I am wildly bewildered that you– magnificent you, cares for me too

I can be swallowed whole by your affection
I want time to stop every time your kisses land on mine

All of your odds and ends captivate me
Your thrills make me spin, but
I know the loss of you could make me spiral

I’ve already lost me, by finding you too intoxicating to look away even once
So here I am

Its dawn
I can’t leave my bed, even though my friends are waiting for me
I am curled  in a ball, barely able to breathe
that it may never come

I am staring at my black phone screen
for you to light it up once more.


Flowery letters

Letter after letter

They all read the same




And I ate away at all of your sadness and relished in it

I liked when you needed me

Till you became an actual boy who cared for me

It was too much

So I ran away


Like bee to pollen
my senses heighten in your proximity
you’ve took care, treading slowly toward me
barely a misstep in sight
but even the faintest advance

I’ve noticed

You’ve exhausted the nearest line
without an error in sight
but there’s a room, that holds no agency of secrecy
no need for rules or supposed to’s
there; you and I could exist

And every time my fingers trace the air between yours
I imagine that room
wishing it were here and
wishing it were real

Your words sometimes spill out, but you lean back
ensuring their slow pace, ensuring your slow pace
because we must sip at this slowly
before all of this evaporates
because if it’s gone—what then?


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