Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.

Simple words cannot describe what you are,
A beautifully complex human so unlike any I have ever seen.

You are rain on the windows at dusk, dripping softly
into puddles and filling them up.
You are watching the sunset on a pier after a long day of laughing;
My ice cream drips down my hand, but I hardly even notice.
You are the peace in hiking up the hillside alone,
Standing over the town and taking a deep breath because you know
you are never truly alone.
You are big windows over city lights, beautiful, bright, and picturesque.
You are the purple-pink lilac sky, ribbons over rain-soaked grass,
sunflowers and dewdrops and soft beneath the fingertips.
You are sunshine on the lake, shining brilliant and blinding,
warm, content, endless.
You are the drives where the windows are down and the music is so loud
I can’t even hear myself sing,
Everything I know and everything I fear getting lost in the rearview mirror.
You are a warm cup of tea on a dreary day, pixie lights and poetry.
You are lying in bed after a day is gone, intertwined with our heads together,
breathing soft, feeling you close to me.
You are the moonlight and the stars that dot the sky, the ones I always stop to stare at,
open-mouthed in your driveway, forgetting to ring the bell.

Simply put:
        you, my dear, are everything.
        everything and so much more.

I started to write something
that wasn’t quite as nice as it could have been,
and I thought about you reading it.
I could waste my words venting about
every bad thing that you’ve said to me,
But instead I started to think about
what I would want you to read.

I miss you.
The person you say you are now,
She isn’t you. And I hope someday
you’ll realize that.

I agree that you’ve changed,
but I don’t think it’s in the ways
you would have liked. Maybe,
Maybe in the ways you think were right,
in the moment, to suit your needs.
But I think you’ve changed in the ways
that let you build more walls
and sever more connections.

I wish that things were different.
I wish we could go back to being everything
we were before, with the exceptions of time.
We were the dream team, you and I,
And there was no one I wanted to spend time with
more than you.

You let me down.
I stood by you and did my best,
Even while my life was barely holding it together.
I understood why you did the things you did,
because you had to. And I wish you could understand
that I did what I had to do too.

You want me to
“work on getting to know the new you,”
But I wish you could see this “new you”
from my perspective.
She isn’t who you think,
the badass who beat depression.
She’s mean, and she’s pretentious.
And I hope she hasn’t burned all her bridges
when the time comes
for reality to set in.

people say what’s lost isn’t coming back,
but I don’t believe that’s true.
                                                           ­  if they can search for the holy grail,
                                                          ­                     then I can search for you.

with dreams of you upon my lips,
i slept like the world was mine to keep.

I looked up at you and thought
"wow, there is something to behold."
I poured libations of sweet milk and honey,
Listened with glowing eyes as you sang your words,
And I made my sacrifices by shining embers.

I smiled for Truth.
I smiled for good-heartedness.
I smiled in reverence for the idol before me.

The clever thing about faith
Is that it is whatever you need it to be.
When those shining embers crumbled into ash, I didn't cling to their fading warmth.
No - I realized the faith that I had been missing all along.

And when that idol came back to me
looking for sweet milk and honey,
I smiled,
For he will get no more sacrifice from me.
No - I alone will coat my lips in honey,
And I alone will hear my song.

And the idol, bespoiled of his worship, cried out.
"You cannot disobey me,"
He roared,
stripped of his dazzling charm.

Devilish days do well to waste,
with blackout curtains and ink-stained hands,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

Those feeble floorboards you often paced,
will creak and moan ‘til you understand;
devilish days do well to waste.

Fight for the feelings that have been replaced,
fight to keep hold of those waning strands,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

The sun will set on all you’ve faced,
an eclipse which you cannot withstand;
devilish days do well to waste.

And *****-laced tear tracks chased
by broken glass that pours out sand,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

When your thoughts have been misplaced,
I’ll be there to take your hand.
Devilish days do well to waste,
waiting for sunset when time's erased.