April 27th, 2014

Five days, 120 hours, 72,000 mins, 432,000 seconds

I count until I see you next.

40 days, 960 hours no -

I forget how long since I last did.

4, 3, 2, 1 day

24 hours until your body touches mine for the first time in what feels like forever

He drives.

I stare at myself in the mirror touching my face my hair my skin

Will you know me?

Of course even strangers know love,

But who is stranger after all these days

I do not know

He drives.

I pace, back and forth like a ceaseless wave crashing

Through doors unlocked waiting and I wonder -

What is it you think of on those long stretches of highway?

Me, I hope

In a tunnel, my eyes like a clear light at the end

And I tell myself you did not think of me when you

Crash.

He drives,

Right into me, right into my soul;

I dream it, I must because I know you're not here, you're not in the tunnel you are

Nowhere

Everywhere

I wake,

In sweat and tears your body next to mine for what feels like the first in forever

May 5th, 2014

3 days, 72 hours, 4,320 minutes, 259,200 seconds

You have been home and yet

I still have the nightmare

Terrorized

By the idea

Of you not being

Mine.

There are unknown universes
in the deepest parts of your soul
that I wish to explore
*but you won't let me in

Ever since I started attending this pathetic excuse of a school
I’ve lost sight of my goals
I wanted to see the world (more specifically the museums)
And possibly some really very attractive Asian men,
Walk the entire Wall of China,
Soak in the parts of nature Man hasn’t tampered with;
I could take a picture of a leaf, put a filter on it and BAM!
I can call myself a photographer.
Maybe I might find an intelligent guy,
Have intelligent kids, keep them from falling in line with society
But no
I am stuck with puerile idiots who only act off of their hormonal urges
Half-track minds that only go half the mile and then reverse back to where it started
I don’t dare say they have potential because I might be lying
All they ever do is stare at their phones
Snapchat! Selfies!
Do it for the vine!
Dude, I’d tell you to go **** yourself with a cactus but even then
It still wouldn’t be the dumbest thing you are bound to do.

In literature I go
Still I search for you
Firm grasp of the pen
Still I search for you
To the canvas & brush
Still I search for you
Until my passion is met
I will always search for you

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

I would paint you a picture of us standing there in the pouring rain. You with your blue jeans and checkered shirt smiling while holding me close and telling me that you won't let go.

*If only I could paint.

Common *** for common man
Leave passion for the poet

of all the simple things

that makes my heart happy,

you are the only one

full of complexities