the fuzz on my face,
the rolls in my waist,
i'm sure you'll find ways,
to capitalize these distastes.

The only poems I’ve ever wanted to read
Were the brief stanzas of our texts.

I crave you
Like the Earth craves the Sun’s warmth.
Without you,
I feel dark, lost and incomplete.

You’re cold
But I want to warm you
Just as you warmed me with your presence
When we talked and shared,
When we loved and all.

Consider the garden of your life
carefully
and remember I am a wild rose
I can be cut back
but I will outlast walls

i open my mouth
to taste the rain
and pretend that is you
i am not cold, i am not wet
i am covered in you

Our fingers intertwined
Our breath matching.
The feeling of your head on my chest.
The comfortable silence.
Is this love?
I don’t want this feeling to fade.
I think I love you.

Unfit to be loved
Not even by God
Who’s promise is
Love everlasting.

Unable to heal
From wounds too deep
The scabs that were hope
Are constantly oozing.

Covered in scars
Generated within
There’s obviously no use
In praying for help.

Huddled in corners
of futile existence
The Sun never rises
And rain falls as tears.

The clock never wavers
The moments roll on
And time has no meaning
Unless there is love.

But love is illusive
It’s not bought and sold
It  must be accepted
Or else it grows cold.
            ljm