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We have all this
technology in the world
and yet we still haven't found
a way to dampen the pain
of putting my best half
on a plane
bound for the other side
of the country
We never went on dates like other couples

We lit fires

I remember seeing the sparks catch hold and ignite whatever poor object was our target but no flame was as bright as your smile,
your face flushed with the heat of the inferno and the pure joy of arson

I remember the times we almost got caught by the cops but we were fast, faster than them

In those moments we were the fastest things that ever were

We would sit on my roof and try and catch our breath and we'd laugh loud and free, full to the brim with the exhilaration of a child meeting a puppy

You were fire itself, dangerous and bringer of disaster

I was a thrill ******, always on the edge of death, both feet dangling over the void, hanging on by my fingertips

You burned everyone and everything you brought close to you

I basked in the heat that was your being

You were happiest when you had a trail of ashes behind you

I was happiest when I was by your side

Maybe that's why even to this day I have an intense passion for flames
I don't believe in heaven but i like to picture you there. The idea of you being forever gone is too much for the fragile layer of smiles I've stretched over the crumbling remains of my psyche so i try to convince myself that you're out there, hand in hand with whatever god you believed in while I stay in here hand in hand with my shadow and a bottle of liquor and I know i know I know you would hate the thought of me praying for you so i try my best not to but whenever im outside trying to find you amongst the stars I light a cigarette and find myself hoping the smoke will make its way to your side.
I miss you
He liked to think
he had eyes
like the moon
reflecting back
unto everyone
the things best kept
unseen
but instead he found
himself hurtling
through space
with the promise of a sunrise
being always
just
out of reach
Is it really any
surprise
that I write my
best poetry
when I'm
writing about
you?
My cat,
Meatball,
tried to ****
my Venus Flytrap
and he claims that
he was just trying to
protect me
but I think it's because
he's a little ****.

Still,
I find it
tremendously
difficult
to stay in a bad mood when
both of my cats decide
to lay on my chest and
purr away
all of my frustrations
and anxieties about the world
After we had
spontaneously kissed
on a cool autumn
evening
I brought it up
shortly thereafter by saying
"so..."
because I couldn't think
of anything else to say
and she said
"We are more mature than that."
except I wasn't
and neither was she
but at least the ensuing
fallout
was pretty to
look at
We were in a coffee shop
in a town perpetually out
of my budget range
when one of my
writer friends
asks me if I've ever
written a sonnet
and I responded with
something beautiful and
meaningless along the lines of:

"I like the freedom
of putting words
to the rhythm of
everyday observations
instead of trying to make
life fit into a specific
model of rhythm and
rhyme"

but the fact of the matter
is that I don't know
how
to write sonnets
or how that rhyming structure
works
since I spend all my time
learning about plants
and hanging out with my cats
instead of seriously learning
how to do
poetry
I went on a short trip
to a nearby port town
nestled on a lake that's
greater than any of your
lakes
and this town's identity is
inextricably linked to the
notion of being a port town
and everything is all
lighthouses and blue

I ended up at a deli
by the marina and
paid ten dollars
for a corned beef sandwich
that shouldn't have cost
that much
but maybe part of the extra cost
was paying for the view of seagulls plucking
dead fish out of the water
that was being endlessly rolled
by the late winter winds
and just like how all the other
restaurants were closed
because us food workers
need rest on Mondays,
the wind kept Spring at bay
for one day longer.
He liked to throw
rocks
at the sun and
at kids
who had never stopped to
question how they
had gotten their names
because he was sure both
were out to cause him suffering
by bringing joy to the eyes
of strangers
and all he ever saw was a dark
reflection illuminated by
an infinity of setting suns
against his eyes
all glazed over with
chronic daydreams
of being able to play
hero
in a world without consequences
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