i wrote this for you

i think back to the days
when i had it all planned out.

seventeen and still believe in fairy tails,
but i don't think i can afford to stop believing.

we were going to be like the movies,
i knew it.

thinking back to the late late nights
and you holding my hand.

arguing about everything
but agreeing on our love.

the night you hand stitched my heart
back together, and signed your signature
for everyone to see.

your mom wanted us to get married.
and i cried when you told me marriage wasn't for you.

his hand in mine,
i thought of how hard it would be when i had to let go.

you stopped looking at me the same,
the days got colder, and it was harder for me to breath.

my stitches ripped open, and the glass from my heart
tore open my insides.

your name still on my heart,
i covered with a bandaid

the night my hand was empty,
a fake smile on my face,
a suit and tie
all under the stars in a nice dress.
was the night you gave your hand to someone else.

after that,
missing you was like, the ache in your bones
when it starts to get cold
and days when you're so tired you cant sleep.

i forgot what your voice sounded like

and wished i had someone to argue with.

i think about our movie that was about us,
when we were the kings and queens

i saw you one day,
you still looked like a king

and sounded like a dream
i forgot i had, had.

and i think back to the days,
when i had it all planned out.

i miss you.
and us.

when we were young // adele

two sizes too small, or one size too big

i think at this point you should be angry,

so so angry.

but you aren't

maybe because you have a heart 

one size too big.

why aren't you angry?

you watched your father walk out the

door when you were far to young,

but understood that, that is what 

made them happy.

you should be so angry,

that at the age of seventeen your sister would 

be high and crying in her bed to try and take away 

the pain of being with her deadbeat boyfriend.

and so so angry, 

that a boy would leave your

sister to raise a child on her own.

you should be angry 

at the boy who shattered your heart

for no apparent reason but you forgave him, 

even though you still have nightmares of him

every now and then.

or at the fact that you tried to

change yourself for the world to like you.

because they say you are too difficult to love.

you tried to become 

more delicate,

speak less,

and be softer.

hands laced with memories,

a heart laced with stained glass, 

almost too thick to crack.

and maybe a heart two sizes too small.

you should be so so angry.

but you aren't. 

you're just sad, 

with a heart one size too small.

or maybe two sizes too big.

(not mine.)

-stacia maxson