I think I've been in love

I mean, not that kind of love,


I've been in love with music

and I've been in love with the way

my mother laughs

and I've been in love with the

sun on my back.


Right now,

that's all the love I have to give.

I don't want to give it to some

nasty boy that will just throw it away.

I'm content with the little things.


But, maybe,


I think I've been in love.

It could be that kind of love,

because his smile warm and my stomach always

hurts because I laugh so much nowadays.

(also partly the butterflies

that decide to have a seizure

every time he looks at me).


His hands are always everywhere.

In my hair,

on my waist,

other places.


But I don't know,

is this love?

What is love, anyway?

The books describe it as magical

and I don't think I have that.


Maybe just a spark.


Is that what I want?


God, my head hurts.

(is love supposed to do that?)


I think we're forever.


He's Romeo with his grand gestures

and he's John Bender,

holding up that radio

and singing me love songs.


I'll dance to that,

stardust flowing out of my hair

and onto the floor.


I'm dizzy because

everything is moving so fast,

the music picks up,

blurry vision,

only catching a smile or two

from her to him,

a secret look,

whispers that stop once

I come up.


God, I should've known.


I think I'm falling.


Not the good kind of falling, like

into a pile of leaves or

jumping off a swing.

The kind of fall that you can't see the bottom, the end,

and its so so dark and cold and lonely,

and i'd give anything to be happy again.


I can't believe I let a boy do this to me.


Especially a boy who is so

terrible he'd break apart the most

sacred of things:

best friends.


And it's so hard to be

in love with those little things again,

after I had it.

The real kind of love,

the one that makes you sing like magic

and dance like a maniac.



I just want to be.

Not in love.

Or alone.

Just be.