He Was The First Guy, I Tried The "talking Stage" With. I Told Him Slow, Glacially Slow, Like A Candle

I try not to fall in love. I really do, because I know that I'll think about them, those things that will make it hard to forget. The curve of his back, the outline of his hips, the way his necklace falls at the base of his neck, the way its only something I can admire when his back is turned, because he likes to tuck his necklaces inside his T-shirt, the matching bracelet hangs off his wrist and sparkles in the light the way his eyes do when morning comes the next day. I have his sleepy smile when I'm the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes, memorized, and his low playful drawl to"take a picture, it'll last longer," before he scoops me up in his arms with the strength of someone who had definitely-been-awake-for-a-while and I'll remember it all. These are the things, the things I'll think of when you're gone, so I try my best not to fall in love.

—Camille Lee, I'll remember everything

We were made for connection, us, it's what makes us human. The crook of my shoulder is a resting place for your weary head, your hand fits snug in mine and it might seem silly to say but we fit together like puzzle pieces when we cuddle, arms around my waist, you're fast asleep while I admire the details of your face. Falling into you would be easy— so easy, it would be like breathing. Therefore I think I deserve some credit, for resisting your outstretched hand, even when you look so kind, I still have no clue if its genuine, but you look so inviting under these lights.

—Camille Lee, falling into you

I'm terrified one day I'll look around and realize for all my platonic love, it isn't enough. For all my friends have paired off like Noah's ark, all over again, one by one, I am but the exception. The lonely outlier, the undesirable creature, alone in the raging storm of living. The one to throw overboard to make space, the easiest at least, because they know there's no one here to miss me. I watch as they gaze into the eyes of their lovers with all the romance I've longed for, talking of the new world and the "rest of their lives together" I'm sick to my stomach but I pass it off as the back and forth rocking of the ark, sea sickness— I send a silent prayer to the sky or to God or to whoever will listen to me I can't possibly be fated to live out my days alone, right?

—Camille Lee

Love is the one who holds the ladder when I climb up to change the curtains. Love is the one that insists "let me do it, it's dangerous." but love is afraid of heights and holds the ladder with a white knuckle grip, despite the fall only being three feet deep. "It's still a long way to fall." Love is knowing I must be the one to change the curtains no matter what love says because love is still deathly afraid of heights, and love is mine to protect as much as I am theirs.

— Camille Lee, love is the one who holds the ladder

I dreamt of you last night, you and I talked so much, more than we do in real life, it was nice. I don't remember what we said, I think all we did was fight as we usually did, but still it was nice, because I got to talk to you again last night.

—Camille Lee, it was nice to talk to you

When you're sensitive, your world is always crumbling—crumbling and rebuilding, rebuilding and crumbling, demolition and construction begin and end and begin again. I could get new carpets, new floor plan or buy furniture too—all brand new, only for another wave, another hurricane to come again and wash it all away.

— Camille Lee, the world is always ending

I’ve still got dance moves, like a friend I no longer talk to. Someone I’ve lost contact with, someone I’ve missed, someone I’ve contemplated reaching out to, to ask “How are you?” but I haven’t found the courage. When there’s a new season of  Bongou Stray Dogs, and she isn’t someone I can just call anymore, what do I do? When my brother is excited about the new Sonic the hedgehog movie, are you too? After all this time, I’ve written so many letters in my mind to tell you I’d still want you to be my friend but would you like to be mine? 

—Camille Lee, "I miss you" excerpt taken from the "Letters I never sent" poetry collection.

read full poem here.

do you think you can write something using the words iridescent💎 or fractal~🌈✨?" 👀

I closed my eyes as I felt the warm water on my skin, cascading through my hair, down my neck and down my back. I run my palms over my damp hair and I open my eyes to see the way the sunlight catches the water from the showerhead, through the bathroom window. I smile as I think to myself it looks like a mini waterfall, magical, ethereal and otherworldly. Like little tiny fairies should be fluttering around the water that seems to sparkle at this time of day. Iridescent shampoo bubbles dance off the tiled walls and pop. In the stillness and silence, I remember living isn't only in the grand, but also in the quietness of a bath after a long hard day.

—Camille Lee, iridescent shampoo bubbles

You say you can't understand. You say how can I be ok, walking around with this brave face, but if I crawl into your lap and rest my head on your chest, will you keep my tears? Like a badge of honour over your heart? Cradle me, like a child, is there nothing to fear, as long as you're here? Does my pain scare you?

— Camille Lee, will you hold me like a child?

I'm a long way from the girl who sat under the mango tree, in the back of the school and listen to cars passing by on the highway after school. She would close her eyes and pretend the sound of the cars on the road were the sound of waves crashing on the shoreline. She had the wildest and most vivid imagination. I look at her now in photos and memories, and I realize, I'm not that kid anymore, I'm not. The magic of the world isn't held in my eyes anymore.

—Camille Lee, 4:30 p.m.