Seeing you
makes me homesick
for a home that was never mine,
but one that you allowed me in.
And welcomed me in,
and ushered me into.

I smoked my cigarettes slower around you.
I don't know what that means but I know
that I like it more than being around
someone who subliminally makes me
smoke quicker.

Tell me,
dear friend,
are the leaves changing color in Denmark?

Does the moon guide you home at night?
Does the sun wake you up with gentle kisses?

I would walk a mile
and a thousand more
to hear you tell me everything will be okay,
to hear you tell me
that I will make it.
That it only gets better.
Because that's what I need right now.

Are the leaves falling of the trees in Denmark?
Are the children getting paid to rake them up?
Are the mothers loving their children?
Are the fathers keeping them safe?
Can you hear me calling?
Over the mountains
and the across the ocean
my voice will be heard.
And you shall be the one to hear it.

Tell me,
dearest friend,
is it raining in Denmark?
It won't stop here.

he said
sorry, i
totally just
spilled my
heart out
to you

don't worry
i told him
**i know the
feeling

It's like falling into a spider web.
The more you struggle,
the harder it is.

Doctors won't help you.
They'll just give you drugs
that take away the anxiety,
but bring your emotions along with it.

Friends will try and help.
But they can only do so much
before they tell you to get over yourself
and to stop being a baby.

So you'll stay at home,
and smoke your cigarettes
and bite your nails
and take shallow breaths.

All you want
is someone
to put their hand on your shoulder.
To be patient.
To understand,
to kiss you goodnight,
and ruffle your hair in the morning.
All you want is someone to whisper in your ear louder than anxiety already does.

Pour a shot of your love,
I'll take it in one gulp.
Lying on the kitchen floor
with my stomach bursting
I swear I love you.

I hope you find your Walden.
I hope it helps you discover
those things about you
that I do love.

i don't really know
if i ever mattered
or if i ever will

god forbid i wonder if i *do

Seeing how our subliminal tactics didn't work,
I decided a new method should be used
to win her heart.

20 shots of Cinnamon *** later
I lay puking into a toilet
with her in the next room.

I fell asleep there, on the bathroom floor,
and woke up on the other side of town,
in a nice comfortable bed.

Sitting up, I noticed the array
of posters on the wall and remembered
never having been in this room.

Surveying the room,
pulse pounding,
I found a note:

"Nolan,
went to work. Feel better.
E."

November brought
rain,
snow,
sweaters,
and kisses.

We discovered what our lips could do as we lay huddling together.
Under blankets,
in a house,
in a tree,
we discovered the sensation of
excitement in places we thought to be unexcitable.
Like our lips,
our tongues,
our fingertips
and our eyelashes.

I can't remember how many times we watched Harold and Maude,
I only know that we never got through it.

You told me I kiss like I'm in a hurry.
Like I need to catch a train
but I also need to kiss you,
and nothing on this earth can stop me from doing both.

And you kissed like you knew it was a good thing.
Which must be quite a sensation to have.
Just like those we felt in our lips, tongues, fingertips and eyelashes.

Not only heartbeats,
thoughts,
and nights;
I wasted too many wishes on you.
Too much time.

I guess I forgot a stamp
because you never wrote me back.
And I guess you couldn't feel my passion
because you never loved me back.