Love Like, Shihan
I want a love like me
thinking of you
thinking of me
thinking of you type love,
or me telling my friends more than I’ve ever admitted to
myself about how I feel about you type love,
or hating how jealous you are, but loving how much you
want me all to your self type love,
or seeing how your first name just sounds so good next to
my last name,
and shit, I wanted to see how far I could get without
calling you, and I barely made it out of my garage.
See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls
asleep then wonder if she dreaming about us being in love
or who loves the other more,
or what she’s doing at this exact moment,
or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the
music of our hearts, closing my eyes and imagining how a
love so good could just hurt so much when she not there.
Shit, I love not knowing where this love is headed type
And check this, I want to place those little post-it notes
all around the house so she never forgets how much I love
her type love then not have enough ink in my pen to write
all there is to love about her type love.
Hope that I make her feel as good as she makes me feel,
and I want to deal with my friends making fun of me the
way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love.
Only difference is this is one of those real love type
and just like in high school, I want to spend hours on the
phone with her not saying shit,
and then fall asleep and then wake up with HER right next
and smell her all up in my covers type love
I want to try to counting the ways I love her, and then
lose count in the middle just so that I have to start all
I want to celebrate one of those month anniversaries even
though they ain’t really anniversaries, but doin’ it just
cause it makes her happy type love.
And check this, I want fall in love with the melody the
phone plays when her number is dialed in to her type loves
and then talk to you til I lose my breathe, she leaves me
breathless, so with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all
of her back into me
I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone
calling plan to something that allows me to talk to her longer
because, in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high
cell phone bill type loves.
I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are
I mean the lines on my palms don’t give me enough time to
love as long as I’d like to type loves,
and I want a love that makes me st-st-st-st-stutter just thinking
about how strong this love is type love.
I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair
Well, maybe not all of the hair
maybe just cut the split ends and trim my mustache, but
it will still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her.
And check this, I kinda feel comfortable now, so I can tell y’all this
I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light just dying
to get hit by a car just so I could lose my memory
get transported to some third world country
just to get treated
then somehow meet up again with you so that I
could fall in love with you in a different language just
to see if it still feels the same type love.
I want a love that’s as unexplainable as she is, but I’m
married, so she is going to be the one that I share this
Scars/ To the New Boyfriend
“One, if I could, I would nail these hands to the edges of stars I would sacrifice this body to the sky, hoping to resurrect someone that’s spiteful enough to not care about you anymore.
Two, staple me to a cross. Pierce my side with a broken promise and I will bleed all the crippled reasons why you deserve one more chance.
Three, loving you was the last thing that I was really good at.
Four, you wanna know how I got these scars. Well, I ripped every last piece of you out of my smile.
Five, I whispered you stardust.
Six, I spoke you into sunflowers.
Seven, I dipped my hands in forever, I touched you infinity, treated you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a gas chamber; I was good to you.
Eight. You wanna know how I got these scars? Well, I swallowed my pride and then it clawed it’s way out of my mouth and Nine, I realized that I was never really your boyfriend, I guess I was really just your height man.
Ten, I hope your next boyfriend gets small pox.
Ten Yes I said small pox. Ten, I hate you. ten, I miss you. ten, but I still love you. ten, it’s hard for me to count when I get emotional.
Ten I heard that over 90%, 90% of human interaction is not verbal..so..
Ten, if I could, I would tie your arms to a day dream and then auction you off to my fondest memories.To the new boyfriend
To the random dude who started dating my ex girlfriend two days after we broke up (yes, I read that on facebook). When I saw that you were in a relationship with the girl that I thought I would someday spend the rest of my life with, I walked outside. I said to myself, “There’s no way Ashton Kutcher is gonna catch me off guard.” I waited 45 minutes and then I realized, there hasn’t been a new episode of “punked” in almost three years, so I guess I’m the only practical joke in this entire situation.
One: The first time I saw you and her in a picture, I wanted to take my entire arm, shove it inside of the computer and snatch the happiness right off of your face.
Two, if I ever see you in the street, I’m probably going to punch you in the throat. I apologize in advance.
Three, I’m sorry for hating you so much. And I know that it makes no sense to have this much anger toward a man that I have never met face to face, but my definition of love is being robbed in an alley 8 times in a row and hoping there’s something about today that makes all of this different. There is nothing logical about cutting off the most important parts of yourself then putting them inside hands that shake, that tremble, that crack like a hatian sidewalk.
Four, there is nothing rational about love. Love stutters when it gets nervous, love trips over its own shoelaces. Love is clumsy, and my heart doesn’t wear a helmet.
Four, cupid is fucking irresponsible, and I’m tired of him using me for target practice.
Five, I was told that time would heal all wounds. But what exactly do you do on days when it feels like the hands on your clock have arthritis?
Six, she always wore her heart on her sleeve. So tell me, why do you look so familiar?
Seven, I think I’ve seen you somewhere in her smile.
Eight, I think I’ve heard you in her laughter, I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints, we would only find yours.
Nine, you see I have this envelope, I carry it with me all the time, it’s full of all the butterflies I felt the first time she relaxed the velcro on her lips and smiled in my direction. Most of them are still alive. I can still feel their wings through the paper. I suppose these belong to you, too.”