The way the letters of your name fall upon the page seems so beautiful to me. Their sprawling swooping quality drives me mad and I want to see if my name sounds the way yours looks when you whisper it in my ear at 3 a.m. on a Thursday night when the whole world stops to listen to our synchronized breath.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
I am searching for someone.
He's tall and handsome
With erratic dark hair that dances on his head when he laughs
And large, white teeth that aren't too big for his mouth.
He likes to sing old songs under his breath when he has to make hard decisions and when he hugs me he puts his scratchy chin in the curvature of my neck and it fits like it was made for him.
I would have brought along a picture but he hates having his picture taken and all the good ones are at his house anyways.
I love him.
He left because he said he needed to find something, though I can't remember what.
It's been one week since and he still isn't back.
He was humming a Beach Boy's song as he walked out the door into the cold November air last Tuesday.
Let me know if you see him.
Thank you for your time.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
you're my ideal.
you're the dream I dream to put myself to sleep each night.
I don't think that I truly want you, because you are gone now
and our lives are very different.
but if time would have skipped to a slightly different beat,
maybe I would be the one lying on your lap and holding your face while the night outside swallowed us whole.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
That you were gone, not to return again—
Read from the back-page of a paper, say,
Held by a neighbor in a subway train,
How at the corner of this avenue
And such a street (so are the papers filled)
A hurrying man—who happened to be you—
At noon to-day had happened to be killed,
I should not cry aloud—I could not cry
Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place—
I should but watch the station lights rush by
With a more careful interest on my face,
Or raise my eyes and read with greater care
Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
At last you have departed and gone to the Unseen.
What marvelous route did you take from this world?
Beating your wings and feathers,
you broke free from this cage.
Rising up to the sky
you attained the world of the soul.
You were a prized falcon trapped by an Old Woman.
Then you heard the drummer's call
and flew beyond space and time.
As a lovesick nightingale, you flew among the owls.
Then came the scent of the rosegarden
and you flew off to meet the Rose.
The wine of this fleeting world
caused your head to ache.
Finally you joined the tavern of Eternity.
Like an arrow, you sped from the bow
and went straight for the bull's eye of bliss.
This phantom world gave you false signs
But you turned from the illusion
and journeyed to the land of truth.
You are now the Sun -
what need have you for a crown?
You have vanished from this world -
what need have you to tie your robe?
I've heard that you can barely see your soul.
But why look at all? -
yours is now the Soul of Souls!
O heart, what a wonderful bird you are.
Seeking divine heights,
Flapping your wings,
you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy.
The flowers flee from Autumn, but not you -
You are the fearless rose
that grows amidst the freezing wind.
Pouring down like the rain of heaven
you fell upon the rooftop of this world.
Then you ran in every direction
and escaped through the drain spout . . .
Now the words are over
and the pain they bring is gone.
Now you have gone to rest
in the arms of the Beloved.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
I fell in love with the way you tied the shoelaces
On you old and worn sneakers.
And I fell in love with the way your eyes would glow
Like soft candle light
When you talked of your idle passions
The way you allowed your hair to have a mind of it’s very own made my pulse quicken.
The way you said my name made my breath pull itself back into my throat.
You are just a boy.
Yet you were so much more.
.
You were a beacon for me
Showing me that not everyone was the same.
You beckoned me forward.
I pressed my small, wet palm into your large, dry one
And we danced.
But
You are a collection of walking broken promises.
You are the coffin I will bury myself in eventually.
The delicate ocean that will one day swallow me whole.
You make me write ugly poetry
You make me love every minute of it.
Every syllable.
Every word.
You were the box of treasure
That I put in the hole under the apple tree when I was 6.
You were the rain
That washed all that treasure away from me
Leaving me with only the damp grass
A distinct smell in the air.
I hate that I think you’re better than what you seem.
I hate that you think you’re better than what you are.
The only thing tying us together
Was our thirst for divergence.
I found it in you.
You found it in someone else.
You were a quick answer
You were a vivid daydream
You were a childs blanket
You broke a heart
You never knew you held
In your large
dry
hand
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
sometimes when I hear your name,
I think of our favorite record,
fizzling out slowly as we stare at each other
over now-cold tea and stale conversation
though sometimes I think of warm sunlight
and the way your curly caramel-colored hair captured it perfectly
I think of running my small hands through your sunshine hair
I remember the way it felt to me
then again, when I hear your name
sometimes I feel small raindrops hit my skin
on the rainy afternoon in the summer
when you told me I couldn't ever leave you
mostly though, I remember looking at you
watching you laugh at a terrible movie
deeming it the best film in existence
and realizing that I didn't love you anymore
I remember everything about you
even though I knew nothing about you
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
Tears sit, poised on my lashes and threatening me to pounce as the graceful, effortless words tumble softly from your mouth and take flight. You breathe those glorious words.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I hear them, and they swirls around my head for the rest of the day, ruffling my hair, tugging on my shoelaces. Your beautiful words, new and fresh and tinted a soft pink.
They cause my breath to become like the ocean waves, shaky and shallow.
Then, I push my words from my mouth. And they fall, yes they fall, but not like yours. My words are heavy and worn and gray and clumsy and hit the ground with a tremendous thud. And you attempt to coax my words up and away into the breeze with yours. You say it will come. You say it is something learned.
But I cannot wait to learn. I cannot wait for it to come.
Because in my head your words are always spinning, mixed in with the roar of my blood rushing through my veins and the ‘Shhhh’ of my deep breaths.
I cannot take it.
I cannot take it.
I cannot breathe anymore.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Yellow: The color of your thick, wonderful voice dripping into my ear when you spoke to me as I laid in your lap on that Wednesday evening.
Blue: The color of your old bike that you would ride past my house on, sailing straight through the neighbors sprinklers when they splashed onto the street.
Red: The color of that Sno-Cone you spilled on my lap. You stroked my leg with your napkin. My soul felt on fire.
Pink: The color of your smooth shoulders after that day at the beach. I still hear the sea at times.
Purple: The color of the sky on nights where the only sounds were the brushings of the tall grass and the whisperings of our two voices.
White: The color of the blanket we used to use when we had picnics on Sunday’s. Those stains won’t seem to come out of that thing.
Orange: The color of the warm bonfire that would spatter across your face when we toasted marshmallows as the putrid smoke crept into our lungs slowly, and with a scary silence.
Green: The color of the shirt you wore to that concert. I had never heard of the band, but you had said you liked them. I bought our tickets.
Silver: The color of your small car. I counted the seconds it took for you to pull out of my driveway when you left for the last time. 5 seconds.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
The light in your eyes is fading fast,
like the dramatic smoke
from a flame no longer
drifting up towards the ceiling.
I see it crashing down around you now.
You appear to approach the world with a dazzling smile
and with a caring touch.
Your eyes water as graceful words fall from your mouth
And your voice floats up and down
as the wind takes it by the hand and asks it to dance
a sad, slow waltz.
And yet you seem to carry on.
Head held high.
Feet seemingly firm on the shifting earth beneath you.
But you are not fooling me.
I see the cracks in your heavy armor.
The fissures where your shield has been broken
and super-glued back together quickly in shame and agony
time after time.
And it is sad, what you've become
You don’t see that many strive to live like you.
Think like you do
Be like you
Even you are striving to be something
that you already are.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC