It's funny to remember
You loved someone;
The feeling foreign,
Awkward in hand,
Rotting in a way,
But beautiful in yesterday
Or week
Or month, or year -
A decade even -
So far
But not too distant
To remind you
To stay far enough away.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
I used to love
When you and I
Got too drunk to speak
And watched the stars
From my bathroom sink
In well-lit Boston
Because
Imagination is important
In times like these.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
I fell in love at 17,
19,
21,
22,
23
23.
You’re pretty
Beautiful,
In the way you
Speak
Walk,
Talk,
Look at me,
And all our friends
Who spectate
Agree.
What I need
Is to live, learn
And love
A time where
The only lies
I tell
Are to myself,
Alone
In the confines
Of a simple life.
It’s not fair,
To let you into
A mind,
Heart,
Life,
That may not be
Capable of truly
Letting your heart
Reside
Anywhere
Close
To
Mine.
It
Will end
With a broken heart,
Guaranteed.
I can’t
Even let
You start.
My apologies.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 10:46 PM UTC
Have you ever
Mixed memories
With what you wished
They could be,
Creating a fictional
Reality
Blended together
Like bitters and whiskey
Vermouth and a cherry,
The Manhattan of your dreams.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
My words may sound similar,
Though my pen bleeds aged ink.
I am no longer the devil you once loved.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
It’s amazing.
I had it all,
And watched as it all fell apart.
Unaware
Of how it would feel,
Running through my fingers
Like sand lost in time,
The memories I have
Barely forgotten.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
When I was a child,
I was given a silver necklace by my father,
Told the stories of how it was there when he met my mother
And cherished it dearly.
But as childhood would have it,
I lost the necklace,
In a full contact game of two-hand touch football,
In the backyard of my frenemy neighbor.
I searched for hours in the grass,
Coming across spiders, quarters
The remnants of dog’s passed,
But never again saw the silver chain
With the little cross
That was the closest thing I ever held to God.
Now I look back,
To the necklace, the touch football games
The neighborhood loving brawls,
And realize youth is an object,
It’s something we hold close
But never realize the importance of
Until years later,
When we miss it
Around our necks,
And we regret
Never truly
Falling in love
With what we had
Before it was gone.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
Some of you make it look
So effortless.
Love, I mean
In all different geographies.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
And so we sit,
Amongst the dudes, bros and half-hipsters
With their overpriced skin tight
Third world friendly workout attire
Under a half fog of cigarette smoke.
And I love your words.
And I love your lines;
While I look across the bar
Towards a television screen
Of onscreen fear and distrust,
To which I must subside.
Your stories, I welcome all,
Overseeing the ocean of information,
But like Columbus, you've never sailed before,
And fear the monsters we can't name,
Their drawings now pencil thin in comparison
To the bombs and the lunatics we face daily
On the news stands we read, and tremble,
Afraid to die
In some new terrible way
The news will commemorate.
But for you, against all odds, I'll keep on
Amongst bullets and bombs,
Through the smoke and the fog,
I'll keep on,
And on
And on.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
I was told,
Some line, some time ago
About bravery being not who killed the dragon
But who had the courage to face it first;
Like learning to love the dark,
Or leaving home before it hurts.
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC