You are the sun.
Celestial perfection 
burning with resplendence. 
Filling the room in every space where something doesn't stand in your way.
I cannot look at you directly 
for fear of being blinded by your intensity.
But without you I am off kilter.
I need your warmth,
I need to feel your rays kiss along my skin.
When the darkness sets in,
and grey days become plentiful,
I mourn your absence.
I ache for brightly lit days.
But you cannot hold the sun in your hands,
you cannot make it stay.

I used to be well.

Medicate to sleep at night,
don’t worry my name is on the bottle.
Caffeinate to face the day,
procrastinate everything.

Beyond the corner where my Zoom calls take place
my apartment is a disaster.
Let’s not discuss how garbage will sometimes sit at my back door
in piles of ‘No Contact Delivery’.

I used to be well.

Dining out seems exhausting,
“the movies cost too much.”
Screams the combined 100-dollar bill to sit at home and stream.

I used to be well.

The days run together
Simultaneously faster
and like watching molasses run uphill.

I used to be well.

More often than not
the White Knight's armor
is spray painted
and he couldn't even spring for the glossy coat.
His trusty steed
is a bicycle with training wheels
because he doesn't know the first thing
about saving himself
let alone a Queen
whose crown has threatened to topple.
He is a boy,
masquerading as a man.
Don't buy his lies,
candy coated sweet temptation.
He's lacing them with arsenic,
and hoping you'll slowly die
reaching for him to save you.

It's getting bad again.
That, Summer time
restless melancholy *******.
That, I want to crawl out of my skin,
drive into forever sunsets,
need my music so loud my ears ring.
That, frustrated with the mundane,
trying to stir up chaos,
wanting to be anywhere else
wanting to be anyone else.
That, feeling that suffocates me,
keeps me up at night
staring at stars,
at the clouded night sky,
staring into streetlights
until tears burn my eyes.
It's getting bad again
and I can't ******* stand it.

In a world
with never ending possibilities
we were inevitable.

Marijuana kisses stolen in the front seat
Lips curved into smiles
Fingers curled against your chest
Butterflies in a frenzy
Fogged windows
Gasping breaths
High off the moment
And lingering in it with you.

Wisps of ethereal touch,
sent down a wave length we share.
Slipping between carefully crafted tendrils
of silver spun words in the air.
A shiver slithers down to my core.
You're whips and feathers,
petals and thorns.
Your greatest weapon of all,
is that you leave me wanting more.
The way you leave me gasping
is something of a dream.
The sting of bitten lips,
desire undoing me at the seams.
Melted sugar drips from your tongue,
in sweet temptation of honey laced promises.
And I could drown in how intoxicated you leave me feeling.
Drunk off words that get me high.
A broken cadence of breath as heat unravels inside,
melting candy coated desire
that leaves a slippery trail.
When I ache to be devoured
my anxiety will fail...

I have written so much poetry about you 
that you will forever be living, 
among the pages of my notebooks,
with the greatest loves 
and sorrows of my life. 

And it's funny, 
in the way that it isn't funny at all, 
that you are both. 

I'll never regret the time I spent 
falling in love with you, 
loving you, 
being loved by you.

Knowing how it ends, 
I'd do it all over again.

For one more minute 
trapped in your gaze,
for a flash of your knowing smile, 
I would do it all again.

So now I fill my pages 
with future plans we made, 
ones I've had to let go of. 
I fill my pages 
with memories that I tightly hold on to. 
I fill my pages 
with our story so that it will never die. 

My pages overflow 
with love 
whose name gets read as loss. 
And among them you will live forever.

I am an open book,
but I do not lay splayed wide
with ink spilling off my pages.  
I wait for careful hands
to read between the lines
and dive into my story.

If I had known when our last day was going to be, would I have lived that week differently?
Realistically, yes.
But only because I would have been panicking.
So let's not be realistic.
Let's be idealistic.
If I had known then what I know now…
I would have read to you.
I would have read until my throat was sore because I know how much you wanted to be home with a book.
I would have turned on all your favorite music. We would have streamed a thousand movies. Anything you wanted to see. I would have brought you anything you wanted to eat or drink.
I would have asked 5 billion questions and written it all down. I would have recorded your voice so I never forget the sound. We would have recounted our best memories and I would have asked you, how am I supposed to move on without you. I would have written your memorial and read it aloud so you knew what it would say…
I told you “I love you” five-thousand  times a day. But I would have said it five-thousand and one just to be safe.
If only I had known.