Sharp and Cold
Those glass like eyes
Once you fall under their gaze
There is no way to resist.

And even when he had all the time in the world.
He never quite had enough for me.

You asked me what reminds me of you

And before you even finished

A thousand things came to mind.


Things as simple as grocery shopping,

And seeing your favorite tea

When a truck like yours passes me on the road

Or when I wear a shirt you've complimented

Watching a sunset or feeling the breeze

Reading a book I think you’d like

Going places we’ve been together

When something exciting happens

Or something disappointing

Hearing words you often say

People who wear glasses

Mangoes and pizza

Puppies and tea

Park benches and polar bears

Love songs
and people holding hands


People

Places

Things


Everything

Everything reminds me of you.

Three years later,
My love for you still inspires every fiber of my body with the same intensity of our first explosive kiss.

Three years later,
Any second of you in mind I feel like my body starts floating high like smoke coasting through the atmosphere.

Three years later,
With patience and understanding still standing by your aside upon command like a silly pup tugging at the bottom of your jeans.

Three years later,
Your absence still suffocates me, squeezing my lungs as I lose my breath and my consciousness...perhaps even sanity.  

Three years later I continue to wait....

She said she didn’t feel good.
They said what else is new.
She said this time it’s different.
They said we’ve heard that too.

She said I think I’m dying
They said give us a break.
She said I’m even crying
They said those tears are fake.

She said I think you’ll miss me.
They said you haven’t gone.
She said it’s getting darker.
They said don’t carry on.

She closed her eyes in silence.
They said come on let’s go.
Her form grew cold and rigid
At last they had to know.

She wasn’t just pretending.
The thing she fought was real.
Her story had no ending.
And her life book they could seal.

They said we’ve been so stupid.
Uncaring and unkind.
She tried and tried to show us
But we were just too blind.

And now she’s gone forever.
Who’s going to run this place.
They don’t know which they’ll miss more-
Her efforts or her face.
ljm

i know you won't admit it -
that you're still not feeling whole

you cast your mold, knowing i would not fit it
but wasn't that the goal?

you finalized your strategy -
everything in place

used up all your flattery
it's safe to say you lost your face

my happiness comes in waves
nothing, and then all at once

but even in the happiness moments
when I'm at a coffee shop
when I'm getting drunk with friends
when I'm sleeping peacefully
you cross my mind
you disrupt my dreams

will it be this way forever?
is closure an unreasonable desire?
maybe our love
wasn't meant to have an ending
wasn't meant to have closure
our hearts were simply meant to wander
aimlessly
in different countries

I am happy, please don't get me wrong
I met someone who is lovely
he loves me well and always tries
but remember our plans?
money ready to be recklessly spent
just to get one quick kiss
too much passion for kids so young

I hope you're doing well
I hope people are telling you
only kind words
only encouraging reminders
I wonder if you also feel a piece of your heart missing?
if you do, please know it's safe
and warm in a treasure chest

along with old tickets and dead flower petals
they're still beautiful even though
they're completely dead
old song lyrics, old poems
all the precious reminders of you
I can't get rid of them
I don't know why

you're all I write about
it's an accident I swear
you took the most valuable part of me
my words
my thoughts
my love

my happiness comes in waves
nothing, and then all at once

Porcelain lamentations,
Further from that fountain.

Where she dipped her foot.

There,
Into the darker wood
Where the wind whistles between the trees

A wisened oak tree spoke to me
It said with its foreboding presence,

"One day, you will be like me
And you will see from a great height
The virid saplings
Saying hello to the ancient light."

Help yourself
to the words we left out
in this sunburnt tree
we call them a well turned phrase
because tree corpse
makes books feel macabre
and we love books
like we love words
like we love giving trees
hugs to release oxytocin
but none of this will help you read
between the lines of your unease
so do not look for help
between murderous sheets
self-help is called living
It doesn’t come from a book
and yes I’m aware of the irony
of writing that in a book of poetry
so
help yourself
to these burnt out words
and please
stop cutting down dreams