it's when the winter
melts away
gives in to the rising sun
and lets the living things thrive

you know it's coming
when every day
is a few degrees warmer
than the last

and it's near
when there's one less snowstorm predicted
in the ten day forecast

or when your soul
is warmed
by the trees

you start off with a structure
the bones
and the bones are covered
by flesh
and flesh is covered with hair
and freckles and things like
ears and eyes and a mouth
for hearing
seeing
and breathing

and then you get into deeper things like
the lungs and heart and various organs
and the brain somehow controls all of this

every thought you've ever thought
every dream you've dreamt
it's all happened
inside of an ***** no larger than your two fists
put together
so when they say that it's all in your head
they're telling the truth

it's one thirty six am
and i am no closer
to sleep
than i am
to you

the sounds fade into the distance
and become so familiar
that absolute silence seems abnormal
and we're told that we don't even see
all the stars at night
because of the persistent light from the city
and i wonder where we went wrong

somewhere under this moon
a child will die
and a girl will lose her virginity
and a boy will try lsd for the first time
and we'll never know
what our actions mean
on a larger scale
but keep going
because you're good for something

eventually
you'll be the one dead
and she'll be the one getting ******
and i'll be the one doing drugs
and no one will know
the difference between us
and them
but keep going
because you're good for something

when i was little
my christian parents
would tell me not to be scared of the thunder
because it was only god moving furniture around
making room for me in heaven

they told me
that the lightning was only angels
accidentally dropping pieces of gold to earth
sometimes i would sit outside with an umbrella
hoping a piece of gold would fall on our driveway

but angels don't exist
and neither does god
and the thunder is only echoes of the lightning
and the lightning is only columns of electrons
at approximately fifty thousand degrees fahrenheit
vibrating the surrounding air like a tubular drum
causing the sound of thunder

i won't ever forget their reactions
when i told them i didn't believe anymore
my grandmother gave me a bible the following christmas
but i sold it to a used book store the next week
and i used the money to buy a pack of cigarettes

i remember that day well
because there was a thunderstorm
but it was probably just god
moving my furniture back to how it was
because he knows i won't be getting into heaven
anytime soon

generally
people like to measure success
based off of worldly matters
such as how rich you are
or how many possessions you have
or how many people you know

but me
personally

i will be rich enough
if i can count your kisses
instead of dollar bills
each one set upon my lips
is worth more than anything
the u.s. mint can offer

and i will have enough possessions
if i can possess your heart
and keep it safe within my chest
safely guarded by my rib cage
right next to mine

and i will know enough people
if i can know you better
than anyone ever has
or ever will
every passion in your heart
and every thought in your mind

i will consider myself to be successful
if i can wake up next to you
every morning
trace your sleepy lips
with mine

and remain that way
for a long while

you are inches away from me
i can feel you
i can hear you

i can taste your thoughts
and swallow them whole
delve into your mind
and read you like a book

when you're inches away
which you are

i can smell your lovely scent
of cigarettes and cologne
it fills the space between us
which is only inches after all

but inches means miles
and miles means away from me

and away from me means--
you aren't here

i've got to stop looking
at these maps
they will ruin me

you are tangled
among the loose threads of my thoughts
inevitably lingering in my dreams

you are first to appear on my mind when i wake up
in the early hours of the morning
and you never leave
not even when i fall asleep
much too late at night

although sleeping without you next to me
is considerably more difficult
than sleeping with you
silently wrapped around me
your heart beating with mine
your gentle breathing on the back of my neck
sending warm shivers down my spine

and i know
that the words i'm saying now
aren't nearly enough
but understand

that i've spent hours contemplating
over the right words
but no combination of twenty six letters
could ever capture even a fraction of this feeling
that i have for you

they say
that if you drop a crumpled piece of paper
and a rock
at the same time
they will reach the ground
at the same time

they say
that it has to do
with mass and surface area
also weight and gravity
and loads of other things
that i don’t pretend to understand

however
it doesn’t take a genius to see
that i am falling for you
faster than you
are falling for me

it doesn’t make sense
because science says
that no matter what
the two objects should reach the ground
at the same time

so why am i down here
looking up
at you

i just need to sleep on this head
full of forgotten strengths and ever-present sorrows
and hope that the stale morning will come
within the blink of an eye

and
like thick steam
my thoughts will dissipate into the cold, dry air
and become nothing but a homogeneous mixture
of nitrogen and oxygen

soon consumed
into my waiting lungs
too damaged by smoke
to know the difference between clean air
or anything else

when i get home
i spill my desires
all over my bedroom floor

and my walls are still drying
from the fresh coat of misery
that was applied the night before

and i should clean out my closet
but i'm worried that i'll be flooded
with the tears that are hiding there

and i'm scared to look under my bed
because i don't want to face
all of the abandoned dreams

so i push those feelings back
along with everything else
and sit in a corner alone with my thoughts
until 2 am
because i'll forget to look at the clock every couple of seconds
or hours
or forever

it's tedious work
to see all beauty swimming through your mind
and not being able to transform it
into a language that others can comprehend

it's a disastrous task
to have a staring contest
with an inanimate object
and lose every time
something like that--

i'm drawing a blank

our june sun is setting
although i'm starting to think
it had never risen

perhaps our eyes were tricked
and we were only making hopeless wishes
on the moon

waking up with the windows shut
no light making it's way through
a job well done at blocking it's path

not wanting it to be real
this awakening
curse these eyes that dare to open
and start a new day

curse this body
that knows when the sun is up
even if it can't be seen

sleep is wishful thinking now
perhaps a more permanent solution

even though giving up
was never a realistic option