you sound like a song.

i am never quite certain why i look for you. i especially have felt this way recently.
i think about it often.

the cure vs. the smiths
biggie vs. 2pac
john vs. paul
los angeles vs. san diego

i still don't understand how someone could feel like home;
but i am beginning to be okay with absence of it.

or if i ever need a reason to smile.

happy anniversary of the month we started talking. i know february isn't a month that you relate to me, especially since you met better people this month, seven years ago. but here i am, writing to you one more time.

i wish i could go back to read all those silly messages we sent to eachother. your goofy secrets; my clumsy come-ons. i will never cease to tell you how delightful the sound of your laugh is when you talk; it will forever haunt my dreams. i miss the first time we spoke on the phone. the mere thought of the time you left me a voicemail is so loud that i am tightening up my whole body just to bare the tears; "so call me back. okay, bye." or the first time we attempted to talk on the phone. i stayed up all night talking about you to my friend after a Metric concert; "wish i could hear your voice." or the first time we actually had a conversation after three years and you wrote something about me, to me, that same morning while we texted; "hard to feel the breeze, conformity uneasy." and i know that i think of you more often than not, and i'm aware you know this, but how can i forget you when you tell me that you went to a festival and thought about me throughout the xx's full set? how do i get over you quoting me heart and lungs lyrics after three years of not talking? and i know that it's now been close to four years since but how do i move on? don't you know wanna know me? aren't you at least a little bit curious? how can you form a bond with someone you've never met but feel in the pit of your stomach; millions of butterfly flutters painting the insides of by body with images of your precious face. how can i feel you on my lips if i have never touched you?

i think about you often; do you think of me at all?

November 30, 2016.

i don't know why it has taken me so long to post this. but here i am, listening to the xx at 2am- missing you; high. there is still no one i have ever met since you that rattles my bones the way you do. i stared at my phone for 24 hours hoping you'd reply to my text; i decided not to give it any more thought after that. afterall, it's always been unclear why we can't talk but at least it's consistent. i always think of you and wish you well. not sure what i was supposed to post and now the first sentence doesn't make sense.

i'm also hella blown.

i miss you. talk to me.

JL.

Will you ever love her enough to stop missing me?

it takes an ocean not to break.

i have spent nearly seven years of my existence; most of my 20's, trying to understand how i could possibly feel this way about someone i never even kissed. this morning i woke up from a deep slumber, with your face engraved to the edges of my joints. to the sound of your voice gnawing at the center of my bone marrow. see, i still ache for you, and something tells me i always will.

10/10/16

and if a ten-ton truck...

remember how we used to message eachother on myspace and text at the same time?


i miss you so much.

JL.

Six years ago you told me you wanted to run away to me; i have yet to get over this.

I miss you.

50 miles overdue.

we met online. her screen name had the name of a band i really love and her headline was a lyric from one of my favorite bands. she had great taste in music, seemed funny, smart, and she was absolutely stunning. i guess this was my fault. she had as a requirement in her profile that only people that lived within 70 miles of her could message her and i was over by approximately 50. so i wrote an oceanside zip code and messaged her. i wasn't really expecting a reply back. she seemed very together at 27 and i was only 22, barely starting a grown up job. but i messaged her anyway, and the following day i received a reply. we bonded over the smiths and the cure and grey's anatomy and one day she messaged me that she would be deleting her plenty of fish and gave me her number in case i wanted to text her. for some reason, i texted her until the following day. i don't know why i chose her, out of every other girl, to play this stupid game, but i did. we texted briefly that night. and shortly added eachother on myspace where we would comment on eachother's page incessantly and texted eachother day and night. we talked every day for over a month. on one particular day, she mentioned that she would be meeting someone in tegan and sara show in las vegas. my heart dropped to the floor. i was filled with the anxiety of the thought that this girl would be meeting someone before meeting me and that this could potentially be all that would ever be with her. a few days after that, she changed her relationship from single to in a relationship on myspace and my heart broke. she didn't text me that day. the following day we discussed her relationship and she expressed that she was in there and i was here and that she was ready to start something serious with someone; a family, and it was something i couldn't give her. we agreed to continue talking until one day she kind of just stopped. and my heart shattered. she told me that her girlfriend was really jealous of me and that she needed to keep our friendship on the downlow, especially on social media. she said that her gf asked her if she liked me and she said she wouldn't answer that question. when i asked her why she didn't say no, she said that she didn't have to answer anything she didn't want to and that besides, her answer wasn't what her gf wanted to hear. and i stood in silence and she asked me "why are you so quiet?" on a late march evening, after attending a concert of a band we both liked, i called her and was unable to hear her or get through to her and she messaged me "i bought you something for your birthday and i'm gonna hand deliver it to san diego. i'm no cheater, but if something happens, something happens and i'm gonna let it." and i was filled with hope. she later texted that she wished she could hear my voice. the following night she said she had been trying to call me and couldn't get through, so i called her. my phone didn't have much service in the area so i placed it in a specific spot on top of my tv and set it on speaker. i had to be standing up throughout the whole conversation and it was happy about it. after that, i would call her a couple of times a week and she would ask me if she could tell me a secret or asked if she could tell me something. when that something wasn't actually a secret, she would talk and laugh at the same time and that's still my favorite sound in the world.

i'm writing this because things consume me much too hard. because it hurts to look at your pictures and it hurts to remember you. i'm writing because this isn't something everyone can understand. i'm writing this because we weren't just musical soulmates and i know you that. i'm writing this because you can't write beautiful things about me in a matter of seconds of me sending you a message and expect me to believe that i meant nothing to you. i'm writing this because it's been six fucking years and i can't get over it. i'm writing because i miss you. because to me, your face looks like something is missing. as if you weren't completely happy. as if you could be happier. i'm writing because i think you know that you could have loved harder than you love now. i am convinced you were supposed to love me and you chose an easier route. but i'm convinced you are the love of my life, and me, well, i was supposed to be yours, too.

heartbreak and pony tails.

i'm not sad, sad isn't the correct word. i just feel like i was robbed. and i know it sounds stupid but this is how i feel. i feel like you and i were carved out of the same stone and i think you feel or felt that way, too. and sometimes i just feel like you and i aren't over. even if us never even began. but i feel robbed. i see your pictures and you were supposed to be mine. and i was supposed to be yours. we were supposed to whisper morrissey lyrics to eachother before bed time every night. and you were supposed to sing the cure to me every morning. it's not fair. and i don't care what fair means to anyone, this wasn't fair to me. and i can't help that it's been six years and i'm still moping around, aching for your attention. i had never felt that way. i have never felt this way. i can't make shit stop, even when i try. and now i'm all kinds of emotional and i'm not sure if it's because i saw the cure or what but i miss you and i fucking hate you.

into the sea, you and me.

and it's silly of me to think that i could be anywhere in Los Angeles and not try to come up with a way to somehow run into you. but being at the cure concert now seems like the closest way i will ever come to touching you, even if you weren't even there. i looked around ceaselessly for four hours, hoping that i could catch a glance of your beautiful face, losing yourself in Robert Smith's voice. engrossed in the harmony of lovecats, engaged in the beat of fascination street. but i wasn't lucky enough to see you and i knew that i wouldn't, but that isn't gonna make me stop. i hope you were there. i hope that we breathed the same air. i hope at some point you were bothered by the whiff of my weed. if that is the closest i will come to touching you, then so be it. good night, once again, JL. i hope you're well.

haiku about joann #2.

we're haiku poems
basically, two sentences
met in the middle

haiku about joann.

i was twenty-two
when you stole my heart. and i'm
here, feeling the same.

jl.

“I never tasted


your lips


but I believe


our souls


touched each other


and that’s why


I still long for


your company”

FnyM (via wnq-writers)

Do you think about me still?

Just a few hours marked the anniversary of the death of a loved one of yours and your family. Remember when you told me your cousin's boyfriend had passed? I do. I remember you telling me how you would tease margaret with him. Asking if she liked him and cute, childish things. I also remember how that gloomy june morning you said you wanted to run away to me. You have no idea how that still resonates in my mind constantly. I'd say every day if i wasn't afraid of realizing that i have thought of that for five years now. Time is fleeting and i miss you. And i wish i didn't almost as much as i do. When you need some type of comfort that your home can't give you, i hope you find me. When you need other arms to hold you, i hope you look for mine. And when you're looking to dissect lyrics of your favorite songs, i hope you remember how no one did that better than you and me.

i could be passive, gracefully.

it's such an uneasiness that i feel that i don't know whether to buckle into a fetus and cry or laugh. either way, i'm crying tonight. i miss you. and i know that i overuse the word miss, but when it comes to you, i can't say it enough. when shit hits the fan, all i want is to find comfort in your voice. i look for your old voice mails in the depths of my shitty memory. i look for old pictures in the archives of my heart. i miss you, Joann. i miss you every day of my life. every second. i miss you in between days. in between heavy bass lines from to wish impossible things. i miss squeezing you into empty pages of my diary. i miss you in the high notes of calculation theme. you've been present in my dreams but absent in my life and all i want is to see you. so that i don't have to dig through thoughts and vague memories. so i don't have to shovel away five years worth of clutter that has made me gather nothing else but the musty scent of other people that haven't acquired what you did in two months. i'll dust off the memories and open the book again. and once you've gone again, it will close for good. but for now, i will continue to miss you and i will continue to write to somehow make everything stop spinning; if only for a moment.

Part two.

I also hope that your fucking girlfriend can't enjoy anything at the thought of my presence near you.

That the thought of me makes her sweat with anxiety.