I'll be like
Every other poet
And compare you
To the stars

Because you shine
So bright and
Very beautifully
Just like them

But you and
I both know
Behind that glow
You're dying inside

It's strange how bright the darkness shines,
Without logic, or care or sense.
Only laughter remains for us,
And sweet crazy grins,
And skipping for no real reason but,
We can.

It's odd how conversations stream,
From awkward to flowing to too long,
But always they lead to,
Hurting ribs from,
Gold-hazed moments,
Of simple bliss.

It's weird how things end up,
Always the same but never the same,
Journey getting there,
Always a goodbye, departure,
No matter how hard to leave,
Separate again,
We always must,
Until next time.

sometimes i find myself confused
knowing that however much we speak
(however much i say i love you)
i will never know you as well as i do
raskolnikov, darl, hamlet, thoreau.

because i cannot read your thoughts
but i can read theirs.
oh, i can read theirs.