Why must I, really
–care greatly, I mean–
It's not like you are here
nor there. You just exist
in the same universe as me.
Same planet.
Samer.
You are flying like a lost bird
you're making a nest so
close to my tree, sometimes
I look over my shoulder and
there you are
picking up twigs and
drilling up holes.
You make so much noise
and yet, it is when you're
silent that I can't help but
to look over and
–just accidentally–
maybe miss just your littlest
help over here.

Every  boy will make you cry.

Even that smart cute guy with the puns you love and those damn cool playlists.

Even that one with the deep voice that says you are poetry.

Even the one with the leather boots who takes your hand and drives you on adventures.

Even the gorgeous one with the perfect smile and the sweetest lips who swears you're the one.

Even the strong one that makes you feel safe and kisses your hands and tells you he loves you even when you don't.

Even the one with the apple green eyes that plays the piano and is just dreamy.

They will all make you cry and I wish you're prepared for that.

Spoiler alert: baby, you are not.

I feel you, kid.
I've walked that lane and I've caused that hurt.
I made her cry and she never does.
You don't have to be like me.
How do I tell you that we all hate ourselves inside?
We all long to die, but that's too easy.
We also love the challenge.
I want to show you what I have seen.
I want you to brush your face against the skin
of one who loves the way you're alive.
Can't you hear that sweet song of the ocean roar?
Rub your toes all over that green grass.
Lose your voice from singing drunk.
Shake with fear at night by scaring yourself.
Listen to that song and cry harder than a newborn.
Get a good punch in.
Can't you see why I fought back?
Where's the fun in dying
when all the good stuff is underneath the peel?
Just stick a little longer
This is a party, have a ball.
Let me open up that for you, kid.
It's fucking great, isn't it?
I want to look at you three years from now
and say I told you so.