I am waxing poetic to my best friend
I am thinking of the veins
Beneath my feet
And the heart beat of the universe
And i am feeling something
Like something before but completely new

My stomach knots
Say I'm pretty
Take me to bed

Last night
I pulled the first all-nighter in years
that I've taken without reason
and I studied a bit,
but mostly I consumed
Read a book cover to cover
and played video games
and remembered
all the things I need to do
all the things I must
the half written scripts,
the shaky first chapter.
and sunrise was like waking up
on the inside where it matters.
there white pages lie
like new fallen snow
whispering promises of new life.

My mother and father never taught me to cook
they always thought I was too wild
for food covered hands
but I watched entranced by flavors
and I learned
I cook like a whirling dervish
all swear I,
can destroy a kitchen,
In the blink of an eye
my parents tasted my cooking for the first time
their eyes grew wide
in awe of something I never learned
but inherited over time

I want to be a villanelle
two repeating lines you see
over and over
and they stick in your brain
i want to be your rule of threes
but the sort that repeats everyday
something that strikes you as you wonder why
you've seen it a thousand times
i wanna be the book of poems
on your bed side table
the one with the flowers on the cover
that you read before bed
i want to be the songs inside your head
I just want to be something
you cannot loose

I feel silly writing poems
when the world is falling apart
yet I must

I wanna see you again
And tease kisses
And run away from you
With a smile
You stare into my eyes
Like you are trying
To say something
And I am left wondering
What goes on in your head.

Of course you take the thing I want
Say here's half
but wait
no here's all
but just out of reach
because he's gonna be responsible
but don't worry
he likes you
he thinks you're attractive
but he knows
it cant be casual
but doesn't that feel great
to know that you could have
but you cant
because of this twist of fate

I spent the morning
Walking the city
Writing poetry
I just wish that one ******* thing
Didn't make me think
Of at least one of you
If not both
And that I didn't cry

I want to say this so badly
It burns my tongue
like too hot tea
swallowed greedily in early morning
and freezes like the cold coffee in the cup
when I get distracted by talking to you
I know you know I write you poems
I've written poems for many
but you I want to say simple words to
I want to speak plain
and the more I know
the deeper the desire
Yet my tongue is still.
I'm not uncertain
but I'm afraid of your reply

Everything burst
And my heart feels like a water main
Bled onto main street
Nothings ever hurt this bad
I'm older now and I wanna scream till I'm horse
Like the first time my heart ever broke
I'm older now and I do not break like that

you sleep in darkness my dear,
but don’t you hear my voice
its begging you to open up
to push away the lies
its begging you to feel for me
to throw the shutters wide
and just take the chance
and free fall once
cause you’re drowning in your fear
and as the waves crash over you
don’t you feel the sun draw near
its falling on your face
through the window
clear and bright
but you’ve lived so long in the dark
it seems to burn your eyes
but cant you feel it in your veins?
the way your blood heats up?
its telling you there is beauty here
to open your eyes back up
please open them back up.
I know some of this was my fault
and when you do you won’t be blinded
though maybe still afraid
but you wont regret the choice
to step out into the day
you wont regret the choice
to again look my way

You're smiley I'm silent
You look concerned
I know I just cannot help anymore

I actually like you
So now I'm afraid
Its really hard for me
To give you that rope...
To let you close
I am terrified
I can handle being used
I expect it
I can handle being a muse
Or a fling
Or a passionate something

But I am Afraid of this
Of you making me smile
Of anything like this
I wasnt going to do this again
Ever
And I dont wanna let you hurt me
But I wanna let you in
And those things are not mutually exclusive.

Why is it never the right time? You are favorite forest paths of childhood. You are deepest desires of heart and mind. You are fire pure and true, and yet, I never get burned by you. You've gotten so cold, I've gotten so warm. You've gone from ocean to stone, I cannot stir you though I am still storm. I might as well be silent for all the difference I make. I know I am light but you wont let me, we are always out of sync. Our hearts always cry at different times. And now you refuse to love. And it was my doing it was i that broke your heart, and your pride let you decide you didn't want to love someone how you loved me again. Listen to your favorite song you know the name that you put with love. I do too, I hate that its always the wrong time with you.

I'm always looking for that break
For that chinck in the armor,
Or the evidence of a mask
That thing that will shatter my fragile happiness
Like glass barely tapped on the counter
I wishni could tell you
How ive been hurt before
So you know its not you at all
Its fear.
And worry that everyone
Is somehow like him

There's a flood in the washroom
And I cant get ready
So I sit reading you
As I have in many of my recent
Spare moments
You're quickly becoming my favorite.

Did you know that a stand of aspen trees
Is one of the largest living organisms in the world.
I don't know if you've ever seen them
but the pale white of their paper bark
and the bright yellow of their leaves
just reminds me of waking up
on the first snow day
as a child and running out, pure joy, into the snow
until fingers turn frozen
then running in to warm them
and back out again
and you are random facts
and snowflakes
and favorite things.

“And you are fire,”
Did you see it?
The shooting star madness
Deliriousness… speak
Squeal something
Don’t recognize this
Don’t know what it is.
Do you see
Ice melting off my fingers
The board at my back
My hand in the flame
I’ve never had someone know,
Who wasn’t made to see
with time
or talent
or speech

I've forgotten the panic  of
"Does he like me back?"

Feeling for you is
frightening
You smile like the sun
Bright on new fallen snow.

Listen
Leave the masachism to me
Dont call
Dont write
Certainly do not fight for me
You cant win boy
No one can
Not with your skill set
Im done being trampled down
Into complacency
Bruised to believe
My worth comes from you
With your stinging words
And dead self-esteam
Always clawing at my back
To make me feel owned
Not wanted
To leave your mark
Not send waves of pleasure
Dont you know
In love you have to give as good as you get
I was your property
I dont know
if you ever were capable of loving me
I know you
And your
Sociopath mind
Believe you do
I tried to do this softly
But youre making it hard
Not to spit venom.
I could tell you
Reasons why i dont love you
But none of those
are why I left
I left because
I DON'T LOVE YOU ANYMORE
simple
Deadly

How do we know each other
so well?
we pay attention
we see more, than anyone else.

I just wanna pull my heart out
I just wanna pull my heart out
I just wanna pull my heart out
And leave it back in your pocket
In your cold and silent chest
Where you keep all your emotions locked
Like your Sunday best
You never go to churches
So you'll never say my name
Like a reverent Sunday prayer
So ill never be the same

I am excited
I am woman
in a time when things are changing
for us.
I can feel new waves
of acceptance
braking over the edge
of a weakening dam.

I am excited
for those that follow
who are like me
and
who are different
may they not
sit in their rooms at thirteen
wondering if they
somehow are wrong
and if they do
may they figure out before 20
that all about them
is okay

It's five am, and there's a slow soaking rain.
It came with a single clap of thunder.
It carries
not only the washed clean smell
of falling water,
but also flowers,
Red maple bark,
and autumn leaves.
There's not an ounce of light yet,
but I swear I feel the warmth
just below the horizon
like love that has yet to blossom.
Its echo whispers. Give it time.

I sat with you for an hour
I barely said a word
It is so rare that I do that
I wasn't engaged in anything else
or playing on my phone
or playing a game
just watching you play
and laying next to you
It's so easy to feel safe in your arms
so easy to be home
where you are
I'm so uncomfortable with silence
around others
My world is made of words
and you bring peace
I wish  could see you more

Virginity is meaningless
but since you asked
I lost mine to a boy in a green sweater
two years ago I would have described
that sweater as ocean depths
now it is bile, thick and heavy
his eyes would have been a blue storm
now they are remembered as watery and weak.
He was growing sick at parting
trusted to keep me safe.
I learned to late that possession
was all he wanted of me,
that he would rip the "I" from my body
and replace it with "His".

For the first time in months
I fell asleep smiling
And slept all hours
Untill long past dawn.

Have you ever been so in love
You stopped writing poetry
Gone months
without pouring yourself  onto pages
Because moments
are sweeter than poems
Or reserved writing for mornings
When you wake to early
And instead of wallowing
In insomniac day dreams of sleep
You sit up, to him sleeping beside you
And pull pen from your bedside
And think
It's been to long
since I've written him poetry
I love him so Deeply I know
There are never enough words to say
But still I'll keep trying

I never thought
About my-self
the way you have discribed
Until I looked
At my favorite song

I don't want to go outside, not ever.
I want to stay in here with you.
I don't like the outside pressures.
I like our cocoon.

People ask if we are chafing.
Growing quarrelsome or cross.
And I laugh until I am shaking.
If ever I am frustrated, you are not the cause.

I have loved you for three years and will forever.
And, no matter what, all I see,
Is that I will never
be prepared for you to go from me.

I was thinking, if you live to be 80
It would only give me 45 years to spend with you
and though that is longer than we've lived already.
I still think it would be too soon.

I am stupidly in love with your smile
and the way we dance from room to room.
So, I'm fine if we don't go outside for a while
I like our cocoon.

I will write happy
I am resigned to it.
It is hard in some ways,
Not throwing gut punches in ink.
Not entreating with the stars to make something of passing passions.
I used to be so filled with longing.
Well, I still am
But now it is ever satisfied.

And you deserve love poems,
The top shelf kind.
Because you make me feel love
not wish for it
or pine.

I don't feel the need to abstract you.
But  I have you.
You have me, and it's the happiest thing I can think of.
And all my friends are tired of hearing it.
So I have to write happy.
So I can write about you.

I want you for your voice is a quiet rumble,
a crackling fire's song.
And when you speak my fears, all crumble.
I cannot part from you for long.

I want you for your dark eyes are warm spring soil
nurturing pale first leaves.
Your personality for mine, a perfect foil,
each action meeting a secret need.

I want you for ******* you my dear, is essential;
it is part and parcel and key.
Do not think me un-sentimental;
for you mean all this and more to me.

You're each direction on my compass: North, South, East, and West.
You are where I find my laughter, my passion, and my rest.

The leaves dance in their forest fire pallet
above the shifting mists.
This riot of color
fragile and lovely in its temporal struggle.
Autumn will wander away as her dress goes to pieces
Like so much ash
to be washed over by bright snows.
Still, I am sure this is her home, and she will return
because she is loveliest here.

As we are sitting still, summer goes by,
And you and I are by the water. Here
We mostly think of how we fell in love.
Portside, by wave, and sun, and drink, and sweet.

The chill grows heavy. I drawl you to me
And think small winter thoughts, and you are calm.

Steady lover, soft roots grown deep and strong,
And far from me. I’m prone to flight for  fear.
Yet still, I’ve read maps long enough to know,
The river opens where we met. So wings
Turn to follow different paths. You've gone

Back home, to valleys higher than my own
Naive to the design of the river
Or how it made convenient paths. On Which
They built the freeways I would fly to reach
Your door, again, every new moon or so.