I’m lying here succumbed by darkness
as you message “I miss you” for the hundredth time this week.
It’s become our natural state of being.
“Good morning” (I dreamt of you)
“What’s up?” (I wish you were here)
“How was your day?” (I need your hugs)
“Good night”
“I love you”
and oh yeah,
I miss you.
I’m here, passing the days by doing my thing
and you’re there, doing yours,
all the while with the other at the forefront of our thoughts,
dreaming of days we’ll begin and end each day
tangled together.
I don’t know why but
today has been particularly difficult to endure alone.
Unable to allow myself the solace of sleep,
a usual occurrence,
I fight the knot in my stomach as it forces tears to blur my vision.
I’m not sad, I’m not angry,
I’m not even hurting,
I’m just numb.
And that hurts even more than pain of daily life,
the pain of missing you.
I read the words of your desires, of days I’ll wake to forehead kisses
and we’ll shower together,
parting shortly to pursue other goals before
reuniting each evening,
finally falling asleep with my head on your chest
and arms tightly wound around each other
as I listen to the thump of my favorite song:
your heartbeat.
Briefly, the wall of numbness collapses
under that wave of yearning,
and the bed yet again becomes entirely too vast
and too desolate
for my frigid bones and weary mind.
God ****** I need you here.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
They gave her the world
then knocked it from her hands,
and told her she was stupid for dropping it.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
Tell me a story.
Of two young people,
a nondescript guy and girl,
crossing paths yet again for only a short time.
Tell me a story
where he found a reason to stop
and look, really look,
before cautiously reaching out.
And she,
in search of that recognition
that once came with glances in the mirror,
found what she was looking for
and even more than that.
Tell me a story
of infinite blue eyed stares,
interlocked fingers,
midnight embraces
and rainfall on locked lips.
Of a stack of scribbled notes
stored on the stand next to the bed
and so many secretive smiles,
the calming of a storm
and a home, finally,
a home within encircled arms.
Of bringing to life
the fire inside
that had for years been nothing
but submissive embers,
of lives gone from a simple
Hello
to I miss you; don't let go.
Where he taught her to love
first herself,
and then another.
Tell me a story
of happiness
that has no ending.
Tell me the story of us.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
It must be nice...
To shake those many thoughts from your head
and have the perfect words fall,
landing directly
in your lap.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
It was only
when you cut the lights
and sat cross-legged on the bed,
facing me --
that your narrowed gaze
and fingers, laced in mine,
-- told more than your soft whispers ever could
of the man you were,
the man you are,
and the one you strive to be,
if only for me.
I hope my lips against yours
confirmed
you
are a great deal more than enough
to command my devotion.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
I don't know.
It's just that there's something about the way
your fingers dance around my waist
that feels like home.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
You smile
when you call me beautiful,
and I say nothing,
because I keep waiting
for it to be the punchline
to the joke.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
I am dreaming.
I am dreaming of your hands on my hips, my waist,
fingers grasping for closeness.
I am dreaming of your lips on my skin,
trailing along my collar bone, to my jaw,
the aromatic influence of wine on your breath.
I tip back the rest of my glass just as you release my hair from its bun,
sweeping it over my shoulder to taste my neck.
Inducing a shiver down my spine,
Your giggle undresses my inhibitions
As my eyes seize yours moments before lips crash.
And that’s when I wake up.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
I step out to face another day.
Crossing over the mist of drops as
they fall undecidely from the gray sky,
I wonder what you might be doing,
where you are,
who you are.
The chilled air strikes my face repeatedly,
forcing me deeper into my jacket
that isn't nearly warm enough.
Do you like the rain?
Can you relate to it?
I sort of hope so.
I watch the sidewalk as it moves
beneath my steps,
both hesitant yet hurried,
trying to remember my dreams.
What are yours?
Do you have nightmares?
Could I help, if I were with you?
I already want to chase them away.
And I promise you, I will.
When it's three in the morning
and the world of sleep
is as far away as the overseeing stars,
Lying down, I'll pull your head to my stomach
and stroke your hair softly
and whisk away the ghosts haunting
your thoughts.
As I reach the warm shelter of my destination,
my favorite song resounds
through my ear buds,
giving me strength,
and I wonder if you play the piano.
Will you teach me,
on days like these
when November begs
we be left to ourselves
behind closed doors
next to a crackling fireplace?
Class ends early today --
back into the rain.
Whatever you're doing, wherever you are,
whoever you are,
I hope you're doing well.
And I hope we meet soon.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Meet me in the meadow,
and sing to me a song.
One I haven't heard before
but we've both known all along.
Surround me with the melody,
wrap me in sweet chords.
Sweep me towards the ocean
to walk along the shore.
There we'll stride, hand in hand
to greet the setting sun.
while colors touch your whispered wish
that two hearts shall beat as one.
And when water welcomes smiling stars,
and the breeze tickles my skin,
your words will keep me warm inside;
they'll light me from within.
We'll drift to sleep, me in your arms,
lying tangled in the sand.
And when we wake I'll ask you, please,
to sing to me again.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC