i can’t write those poems anymore

Dear You,

I am tired of writing poems for you. I am tired of those cryptic half-messages. I feel like when I write them, I leave out the biggest pieces of the picture, the ones that make up the edges and frame my feelings.

I want to start the real part of this letter by telling you that I am happy. I wanted to tell you how people say I’m different and they don’t recognize me. They call me words like “bubbly” and “energetic” which I’ve never heard before. And I realize it’s because, thanks to you, I don’t care what people think. I am not going out of my way to impress anyone because I have you. I have you and you relieve the pressure inside of me. You help me push apart the walls of my heart and my head when I feel like they’re caving in. When I am with you, the world slows down to the speed it should be all of the time.

Something that strikes me as being very strange is the way people don’t think this will last. An ex of mine said, and I quote, “I know you really well, and from what I know of him, the two of you just aren’t really compatible.” I wanted to scream in his face that he doesn’t know me, that he can’t know me because of all people in the world, I have shut him out the most. When I’m with people like him, I’m reminded of why late at night I feel like taking your hand and jumping off the edge of the world.

I want to ask you if my kisses taste bittersweet. When I kiss you, I feel like someone is stitching up a wound in a deep part of me that I can’t name, and it hurts like crazy, but I love it all the same. Can you feel the clouds in my soul through my ribcage? Can you tell that there is a depth inside of me that I can hardly tap into alone, and when I’m with you, I feel like dumping it in puddles at your feet?

Sometimes, you seem very unsure when you touch me. And I know it’s because I’m young. I’ve always hated being young, but now I feel it more than ever. If I weren’t sixteen, we would be in a completely different place right now.

That’s all I can write for you right now. And I want you to know that I think you’re beautiful, and I don’t ever want to lie to you. So don’t give me a reason to, please.

Goodnight,
Me.