Have sat in the back of the class

Melding with the woodwork

Staring down at grounded hands

Praying not to get called on

I, Too

Have met eyes with

Only concrete and words unsaid

Sentences never leaving the tip

Of my tongue along with all the

Things I could have mentioned

I, Too

Have been envious of

Easy chatter and felt

The weight of

The silence between us

I, Too

Have lists of everything that

Could go wrong, what

Might happen upon

what might happen

And I, Too

Have noticed you

Staring at your grounded hands

Wishing

You could raise them

when

after everyone

had gone to sleep

i sat on the roof

and listened over and over again

to the shades of grey

that traveled across the sky

i used to never like

the city skyline

but now

i can see how

the lights like

scattered paint

reminded you of

stars

I think I knew I liked you

when you convinced me that cities were beautiful.

I promised myself that

I’d never open my eyes to the beauty

of something so artificial, but you showed me

how lovely the skyline can look across the horizon.

I think I knew I liked you

when I woke up with aching abs leftover from the laughter

that had tumbled out of me

like water spilling from a fountain.

I knew I liked you

when after everyone had gone to sleep

your songs were still billowing into the air

from my old computer speakers, the view count

on your music videos having traveled from 73 to 90 since 2 am.

I knew I liked you

when my constantly wandering mind

picked up on every detail you shared

and hoarded them, because

the information that you collect two-dollar bills

or you are terrible at naming things

seems more important than anything else I know.

I knew I liked you

when I leaned into the cliches I had always sneered at,

and I started writing love poems about your smile,

the sappiness thick as honey, but

the words never failed to taste sweet in my mouth.

I knew

from the way I suddenly forgot

all the cheesy pickup lines I knew

when you asked me for some to send your crush.

I knew

because of the way the lyrics of your songs

tasted bitter in my mouth when I knew

they were written for somebody else.

I knew

from the way I wasn’t sad when

you gushed about them, because

I also knew that I couldn’t be anything but happy for you.

I think I knew I liked you.

I hope I know better now.

I never wanted to see you again

but here you are

hate still fresh inside me like

it was just yesterday, so

when you

smile like we're old friends

my fist can't help but

clench

what you did still simmers inside me

drives me to be better than you

so

i never wanted to see you again

just incase you make it right

I didn’t know a smile could make you feel like the first day of autumn, when the air is so crisp it almost hurts to breath. I didn’t know eyes could be so green, like you condensed spring into your iris. I didn’t know a voice could be so pretty, like summer birdsong. I didn't know that love hurt so much, like winter's ice growing in my chest.

The icy sea lapped at my ankles, spreading a reassured numbness throughout my feet. The dark grey-blue sky made the water cloudy, highlighting the rocky beach to my back. My bow grated against the strings of my violin, coaxing out a lovely discord that the sea echoed back to me. With practiced care, my bloody fingers ran across the strings. They dripped red into the water, creating a stark contrast in the white sea. It was beautiful and grotesque, a lovely ending to a tragic story. It was a long while before my violin joined my blood in the frothy sea.