My heart sat still in the attic, carefully boxed up and tucked away in the corner for an unknown time and place.

I would take it out from time to time, examining it to see if it still worked. It was covered in marks from those whom I had offered it to. Some were gentle, leaving only thumb prints, but others were careless and left bruises, scrapes or cuts. The scars went deep in places and still caused pain when touched, while others were barely noticeable. With each new scar my heart became more calloused and yet more fragile, and I shared it less and less, scared it might break irreparably. So I packaged it up, tightly bound, stored it away in the recesses where it would be safe from harm.

And there it sat, in the corner of my attic, collecting dust, beating slower, slower still, until the pulse was barely perceptible as it faded to grey.

But then came you. You were charming, kind, loving. You opened yourself up to me, shared your heart freely, showing me how easy it could be. Your heart was bruised and battered, too, but you did not let that stop you. The scars made yours stronger, more vibrant, more lively than before. You let me hold it, offered it to me, told me its stories, and we shared your vibrant heart. It was wonderful, but we both knew one heart--however strong--could not support two people.

With gentle words you asked to see my damaged heart, with gentle breaths you blew the dust away, with gentle hands you undid the bindings on the box. You gingerly cupped my battered heart, massaged it back to life, held it close and assured me it would be safe with you.

I was distrustful at first, scared you would damage it even more. But as the hours turned to days and the days turned to weeks, you faithfully cared for my heart with your kind words, caring actions, tender touches.

For so long I was afraid of letting this happen, of giving my heart to another, but you are showing me it's okay to try, okay to trust, okay to love. You are showing me a life I never knew I could have, and moment by moment, touch by touch, word by word, you are bringing my heart new life.

I still think of you, you know
     in the dead of night,
     in the quietest hours,
     in the lonesome dark

I still dream of you, you know
     in my midnight slumber,
     in my subconscious life,
     in my somnambulistic searching

I still long for you, you know
     when I feel that itch,
     when relationships fail,
     when I crave attention

I still think of you, you know -- Do you ever think of me?

It's a strange thing, to not "be"
To not exist to someone else
I exist to my family, to my friends, to my colleagues,
But not to you

I used to "be" for you, to exist in your world
I used to mean a great deal to you
But now you have erased me from your perception of reality
And I no longer hold a place in your world

But you're still in mine. You still exist to me, you still continue to "be"
You're faint, and grow fainter by the day, but you still exist
You are the flicker of memory when I see a mutual friend
You flit back into reality when I drive past your old house

Since you are so faint, and I don't exist to you,
It always catches me off guard when I have to pretend things are different
When someone talks about the old days and reminds me of us
And I feel I have to play along and carry on as if those days still existed

But they do not; they were snuffed out long ago
I built the coffin for our mutual world, and you hammered in the final nail
I was the author, you were the finisher
What destruction we have caused

And all around us, this is going on:
Mutual worlds bursting into existence or collapsing upon themselves
And we all carry on like it's not a strange thing, to not "be"
To not exist to someone else

I find it funny that I can't write a poem about you
I've been trying all day and it's just not working
Don't be offended, it's nothing you've done
You've done quite a lot that I'd like to write about, actually
But you see, every time I start writing about broken relationships or other painful things,
Invariably I end up writing about him.

You see, the pain from that relationship still hurts the most, cuts the deepest, lingers the longest
And the harm you did just doesn't meet the mark
So I suppose you should take it as a compliment that I can't seem to write about you
I can honestly say I've had worse
Because for some reason, all poems come back to him, all pains remind me of his pain, and all my reflective thoughts are consumed by him.

Like the moon 'round the earth
is what you and I should be
No matter where one travels,
the other can always be seen

As one drifts through space
in the seeming unknown
the other is there always
always, they're never alone

Like two eagles on the wing
is what you and I should be
Building with one another
a relationship unseen

On the outside seeming
strong, independent and free
on the inside certain
of our bond, undoubtedly

Like two leaves on the wind
is what you and I should be
Drifting as one downward
toward death, eventually

Riding the air currents and
tasting the joy of life
Enjoying every moment
of ever-precious life

Like the moon 'round the earth
is what you and I should be
No matter where one travels,
the other can always be seen

As one drifts through space
in the seeming unknown
the other is there always
always, they're never alone

You are a conundrum
A mystery to me
And it’s impossible to tell
How you feel for me

One minute you’re there
Ready to be my friend
The next you disappear
And our friendship ends

I fabricate belief
I force myself to see
That you really do care
And won’t abandon me

But I can’t keep this up
I am losing it bad
I need to move on now
And forget what we had

You need to decide now
If you want in or out
Your seeming indecision
Has filled me with doubts

But you’re inconclusive
And don’t make a **** move
So I’m forced to leave this
Myself, I must remove

I try my best to hide it
and act like nothing is amiss
but it gets harder every day
that I must go without a kiss

I feel disconnected
Disconjointed
all alone
When I'm with our friends
and you're not there
My heart's at home

My heart is where your heart is
My home is where you live
My dreams are where your dreams lie
and the hope that each one gives

It's all superficial
you don't really care
You can't seem to trust me
and you never share
the things that matter most
the things I need to know
I have to find out from others
what I should have heard from you

I want you in my life
and I'd love to be your friend
but I need honesty and trust
or this will have to end
I'm done with all this faking
and now is the time to choose
either fess up and make this work
or you are going to lose

I've been there for you
but I need for you to see
that I can't put up with this
and you're going to lose me

I’m losing hope in this relationship
‘Cause the commitment isn’t there
I thought we had something worth fighting for
But you don’t seem to share
The way I feel
It wasn’t real
For you
I thought this was real
Now I cannot deal
With you

   How many times should I fall for it?
   The way you make me believe
   How many times should I forgive you
   For doing the same **** thing?
   How many times should I accept excuses
   For not following through?
   How many times should I fall for it
   Before I let go of you?

I’m losing faith in all your promises
‘Cause they turn into mist
I let myself believe this time’s different
I can’t believe I fell for this
One more time
It’s all a lie
And you
Say one more time
But it’s a lie
I’m through

   How many times should I fall for it?
   The way you make me believe
   How many times should I forgive you
   For doing the same **** thing?
   How many times should I accept excuses
   For not following through?
   How many times should I fall for it
   Before I let go of you?

You’re leaving pretty soon and there’s nothing I can do
The events of this life are what are putting me through
The heartache I’ll feel and the utter sorrow
So don’t go away ‘cause you’re a hard act to follow

Our relationship is new and I’m always surprised
At the way we’ve grown so close and I cannot deny
If I see you today I’ll miss you tomorrow
So don’t go away ‘cause you’re a hard act to follow

So when the day comes that you have to drive away
I’ll be waiting where you left me, waiting for the day
That you finally return, and take away my sorrow
And you won’t go away ‘cause you’re a hard act to follow

Will you be there for me when the skies fade to grey?

Will you be there for me when my dreams are dashed away?

Will you be there for me when it seems my life has passed?

Will you be there for me when I think I’m on my last?

Will you be there for me when despair is all I see?

I’ll be there for you; will you be there for me?

There are those people who
Never seem to care about the things
That I find so important,
Like friendship, and family,
And loyalty, and trust.
Perhaps it doesn't bother them
Because they are accustomed
To seeing things in that way,
That way that people are simply
Dispensable, replaceable, interchangeable
Not so special or unique,
Just faces and voices to fill empty spaces.

I’ve been holding my breath
too many nights in a row

Trying to move onward
but my progress is slow

I keep thinking I’m fine
that I am finally sane

But then I catch a glimpse
and I relapse again

You’re like a drug to me
an endorphin injection

I remember the past
our affection—perfection

But now you are not here
and that brightness is long gone

I see from a distance
exactly how you moved on

I don't know why I'm still waiting.

   It's clear to me that you aren't interested anymore…

   So why am I still holding to that last thread of hope?

Why can't I move on,
                                   improve,
                                                  be happy?
It seems like you have.

     Everyday,
                   I fight back the urge to call you or visit you
                                                         tell­ing myself that if you wanted to talk to me,                                            you would.

I’ve tried treating you the way you've been treating me. I think to myself,

"What if this time, I don't say 'hi' first?
  What if this time, I don't call you back?
  What if this time, I leave you wondering?
  What if this time, you're the one left feeling completely ******* over?"

So I try it for a while…


Sometimes I get the feeling

      that you will never make the effort,

          that you will never call

               that you will never care

                    that you will never miss me

             so I break down and I call you.

          And you greet me like you’ve missed me

       And you treat me like you like me

    And you make plans with me

But they never happen.


You’re promises are just lies

******* in pretty bows

And.
          I.
             Can’t.
                        Trust.
                           ­        You.

I go to graveyards whenever I can
Not to mourn the death of those I've known and loved
for they are buried far away
No; I go so that I may remember
Remember those who have gone before
Remember that life is fleeting
Remember that someday I will join those buried.

I ignore the big graves; the showy, fancy ones
I ignore the ones with flowers and trinkets as well
they do not need visitors
they already have all they need and want.
I visit the graves that are small and simple
the ones with faded words, overgrown with moss
These are the ones that have been forgotten,
these are the graves of the average man, woman, and child
The ones who led average lives, like you or me
the ones you would see on the bus, in the park, on the street.
These graves are those of the working man
the shop keeper, the pastor, the laborer
the ones that affect our everyday lives and leave the most impact.

I visit these tombstones because no one else seems to ever come
I try to decipher the name and dates on the faded headstones,
But often cannot
The moss of time has grown over them,
The letters have been worn away.
Maybe if someone came regularly to visit, to sit, to think,
The moss would not cover
The wind would not wear away
Time would not destroy
So I visit, hoping I can make a difference
Hoping I can help preserve
The graves of the long forgotten.