bad at love

i am bad at love
you may think you can't be,
but you can. and i am.
bad at love.

it always seems i am the last
to move on
or to move forward
or to let go.

i am always
hurting those i love
loving those i shouldn't.

please don't love me.
it won't end well
for either of us.
because
i am bad
at all aspects of love.

this girl

i've got a poem somewhere,
i'm sure of it.
its banging on the door of my brain
hoping to trickle down to my fingertips
and out onto paper.
maybe it is raw
and unedited.
maybe it is revisited and revised
until none of the original shell remains.
maybe it is an open doorway into
the mind of a girl.

some say this girl has "daddy issues"
but i assure you her issues are all her own.
she craves attention,
and she is immature for it.
she wants you,
or does she want you
to want her?
she'll spin a web
about her life
until its true.
did she ever really love you?
or was it a lie
that she made herself believe

there are words
aching to get out,
scratching at the walls of my heart.
these words will form a poem.
it's about a boy
and a girl.
it always is.

winter nights

here i go again.
sitting in the heat of the summer wishing for the winter's sting.
the love is dripping through my headphones, like an IV.
and suddenly i cant remember why i left.
there must have been a reason, but i cant formulate it. cant remember.
i had a dream last night
that you never walked away from me.
this dream made my heart smile and my eyes remember the sting of tears.
the waves of auburn ocean.
my fingers danced with your imaginary counterparts.
when i awoke, fingers cold with lonliness
eyes bloodshot with tears long past,
the saltwater stain on my lips.
i had a dream last night,
but only a dream
that you never walked away.

fall

i told you i would keep it.


in a phrase to cut these lips.
i loved you.

please remember

I hardly ever write anymore, I used to write because I was inspired, inspired by you. or because I had something to say.
This is something I have to say, and I don't even have a pen to write it down.
I go everywhere I hope you'll be, just to see your smile, even if I know you're not smiling at me. You're never there, just as well though, its not like ill know what to say. So i write it down and hope that you still read.
I am in the park today, the day my life is supposed to be different, but all I care about at this moment is escaping to the past, laying up against the tree where we kissed, picking up fallen leaves and remembering what you described as your perfect day.
I'm in the park today of all days, wishing you were in the park too.

=(

it hurts to smile.
an unbearable kind of hurt. and even thinking about parting my lips into an upward curve sends a sharp spear into my body.
i run my fingertips over the surface of my face and pretend not to hurt. not to cry every time i want to smile.
i wipe the black tears from beneath my eyes and think, hope, pray that someday the heat will fade.
because it hurts to smile.
and i had to kiss it goodbye a long while ago.
so relaxing my mouth, i fog up the mirror and draw a smile beneath my reflection.
because i can't smile.
it hurts to smile.

Andrew

You always said it would happen. And yet I was still unprepared. It’s strange how when the opportunity to meet with someone so influential, your mind…. Blanks. And then you are stranded with a goofy grin and nothing upstairs. “How’s it going? I’m Andrew.”
And the only thing I could force out was, “…Kelsey.” He shook my trembling hand and I could feel the energy flow from his fingertips. The attempted speech afterwards was barely audible as my brain was telling my mouth to open. He started a conversation about the show and we agreed that it was amazing, adding that we would be at the movie premier the next night as well. His heart seemed heavier than I expected, like he was the happiest man alive yet was holding something back. We all talked about this or that and all the while I couldn’t contain the feeling that I was in the presence of the most genuinely impressive person. After a while of my back-flipping brain trying to capture this moment, we said our goodbyes. And as I asked for a hug, he leaned in and said, “come here, darlin’. Be well.” And that was it. Such simple words. I thanked him for spending time with us, and he thanked us for standing by him through his journey.
It’s sad that we must face defeat in order to appreciate what we have. Knowing this, he is trying to spread the idea that you don’t have to stare death in the face to appreciate life, we just need something to swim for.