If I do not speak then it will not be real.

I don't say I love you.

I don't say goodbye.

If words never step off my tongue then I will be safe.

I only apologize and

say goodnight.


I refuse to speak to who you used to be.

You are not real,

you are only make believe.

You reincarnated from a lotus to a poppy,

from a poppy to a carnation,

and I'm wishing that I

never picked you from the beginning.


My tongue will never taste the girl I fell for.

It took two lovers to get over you,

and I still end up falling into dreams to

your name on my teeth from when

I spoke your name in my sleep.


You filled the hole in my heart without knowing it.

I tried to tell you and almost

pushed you away, I wanted to

make you understand my pain,

and I hated myself for that for

years whenever I smiled at you

when you looked away.


I called you on New Years Eve before I turned seventeen

and you never responded. I was glad that

you never heard them call you my girlfriend.

I thought that I'd be happy when they did.

Instead, I shouted and brooded all night,

praying that you're still alive.

I never worried about you dying until that night.


I have no gardens at my new home.

I kept the fake ones I found in my father's camper

after he took his life, and it reminds me of him,

but my reminder of you cannot be planted

in soil or kept from the sky.


You are my moon.

My God is the stars in the sky.

It's not surprising that

the two most important people in my life

are above my head, looking down at me

from where I keep them on a pedestal.


You may have turned into a funeral flower,

but I love cemeteries more than most,

and I was never afraid to admit that.

I don't get why I'm afraid to plant flowers.


Maybe it's because they die.

Maybe it's because they're not eternal,

like the moon and the stars.

Maybe it's because I don't like to remember

that I dreamed of the house that we'd live in,

with flowers on the kitchen table and

flower pots outside.


Do you see why I'm so quiet?

Do you see why I stay inside?

If I breathe in the pollen,

if I make a single noise,

then the universe will

crash down around me

in a storm worse than my

heartbeat when I found out

that I would never end up in your

arms at the end of the story I never wrote.


I told you I loved you three times.

It took three times to hear it right.

Those are the only true words you'll hear from me.

You'll never have to hear me say goodbye.