Homework piling up
Deadlines all right ahead
Overdue assignments needed
All I can feel is absolute dread

I have so much to do
Yet so little time
But you know what I'll do
I'll simply wait to the deadline

Let's write some poetry
Scroll through Facebook
Watch a movie
Maybe read a book?

Let's talk to friends
Play some games
Finally clean my room
Leaving my future in flames

I should get around to that
I should probably start
Oh hey look!
Here's my old works of art

Let's look through a photo album
Do some online shopping
Maybe I'll even bake some sweets
I'm showing no signs of stopping

I've got a SAC tomorrow
Exams are around the corner
How is it 3am already!?
I'm surely a goner

I'm so lost
What are we studying?
We had homework?
What does it all mean!!!

But after all these years
Countless days of procrastination
I still haven't learnt my lesson
Spending each day in complete frustration

I'll leave it all to the night before
Ah, I love throwing myself into a panic
Freak out, Cry and repeat
My mindset is satanic

Even right now
As I write this poem
Avoiding my priorities
My stress is forever ongoing

I should probably get onto that

Sometimes i catch you
watching me
as i attempt to subdue
my obnoxious laughter
and sometimes you catch
my eyes
fixated on you,
as you throw your head back in laughter;
and we stare into each other's eyes
a little too long
before i turn away shyly.
your eyes are still on me aren't they

When we sat on the sofa
on the last day of school
in the dimly lit Pool Hall,
you put your arm over my shoulder
and pulled me closer
what was in your mind?
we were sitting thigh to thigh,
you called my name,
I turned.
our faces
were so close
that i nudged
the glasses perched on your nose
with my cheek.
did your heart skip a beat like mine?

When we were eating alone
i think i said something stupid
and your grin was so wide that
your eyes curved into crescent moons,
and your grin so bright
wow
that i had to turn away.

Today, we sat beside each other
and you inched
a little closer.
you gingerly put your head
on my shoulder
just a second
and then sprang up,
as though too shy to lean on me for longer.

When we were walking
and our hands bumped against each other
many times
your thumb and index finger
held my little one
just a second
and my heart skipped
just a beat.

We are not lovers.
but we are not
just friends
and i'm not sure
if i want us
to be anything more
than just this.

Taking me out to dinner
See the story play out in your eyes,
Said you miss the way I'd lay in your lap,
When I'm not with other guys.

They feel different than you though,
It all tastes the same,
T hey get all tied together,
They're just faces and names.

But you got the lit cigarette out the window,
And words flooding books,
I think I'm getting too old to base love all on looks.

And so I fell asleep on your chest,
In the same car as times before,
Until I woke up to you sighing,
"I don't even know what we are anymore."

Words kept rolling off your tongue,
Escaping your lips,
Like you were holding in all night to tell me all of this.

Said we were always leaving,
Together and then parting ways,
But when would be the time we would both decide to stay?

Now would be my answer,
But you left me on open ends,
So I just paused and you stared at me,
"Babe, are we just friends?"

Tonight he leaves you with a pile of his favorite CDs;

you dream of loading them onto Noah’s Ark before the flood,

along with his 3 A.M. texts and prescription glasses;

he will talk to you when she is not around,

look directly into your eyes, until your heart cracks

and spills into his palms like a weak egg yolk

ready for the frying pan. Do not wait for his little green Facebook

symbol to light up or you will be up all night.

He will kiss her in front of you, a kiss so deep

it could cut straight to the bone like an interrogator

slowly removing a suspect’s finger with a carving knife.

Shield your eyes and turn away;

pretend you are casually studying the poster on the wall.

You will wonder if her body leaves an outline in his bed

the same way a crime scene is taped off

around the chalked-in edges of the victim,

and still he will call you twenty minutes before midnight

wanting to go out for ice cream

when you end up comparing the best 90’s music

over his kitchen table instead. When he looks at you

across this very same table, stare directly back.

Do not flinch. Do not turn away this time.

Let the tidal wave of his stare wash over you

until it drenches your hair

and he wants to comb out the sadness with his fingers:

let him. Let him.

It will take a while to work through the tangles

but savor this last moment with his fingers

unknotting you like needles, before tomorrow,

when he will go back to her again, bouncing

between the two of you like a yo-yo,

the kind that returns to the owner

then moves on to another when it grows bored.