I didn’t write this poem for you
I wrote this poem for me
But in every poem I write
Someone, somewhere
Will see
A part of themself
In what I saw in me

I watch you two
Bicker back and forth
Can’t remember the last time
I saw you flirting
With each other
Or anyone else
You share a mutual
Pattern of nuisance
And you seem to want it that way
I hope it’s temporary grievances
But I think they’re here to stay

You have set me on fire
Peacefully and blissfully
Yet it burns no less hot
Songs I’ve known for years
Are suddenly new
Days just seem more peaceful
And so does the view
Tingles, butterflies
Excitement brews
Mind frolicking
Thinking about you

The new mint chocolate chip tile
On words with friends
Only $9.99
Of real money
For that imaginary thing

I hope I never don’t want to go
Barefoot on grass
When the option is there
I hope I always choose to dance
Over sitting in a chair
I hope little kids always wear me out
And get me out of breath
I hope I live so **** hard
When I go
There’s nothing left

The age old questions
Upon which nobody can agree
Most always seem so simple to me
And probably everybody
It seems so obvious
That those who can’t see
Seem to be ignorant willfully
But they probably think
The same about me

You walked in
The room got smaller
You fill up every corner
Presence
You might as well have been wearing
A cowboy hat
With all that swagger
No high horse in sight
But a noble steed
Indeed