i'm sitting in the back seat
of the car
my dad behind the wheel
my mom in the passenger seat
sitting and writing
instead of telling them
it is not because
i do not think i'm ready
i am
it is because
i do not think they are
i know they will think
they have made a mistake
i cannot be broken
i do not want them
to try to fix me
enough people have tried
but will they ever be ready
i know there is no perfect time
but all i know is
the time is not now

i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god

I'm here sitting
alone,
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
desperate,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
or
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
or
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.