I miss you.
I miss you a lot.
Dear friend,
There’s so much I still don’t know- that I won’t know.

Remember? We laughed and sang and cried and learned and loved.
I do.
Remember when we talked?
We talked for hours about everything. About nothing.
I do.
Remember late nights with a high moon and loud music?
Dancing and sharing dreams.
I do.

I will always remember you. How cool we thought we were. How close we became.

Where are you now?
Why did you fade away without even saying goodbye?

Remember when you said we’d be friends forever?
I do.

I miss you.

I'm tired of this.
I deserve better.
I'm always hearing about the things I didn't do,
when I so clearly did.
I'm tired of being the best I can be,
while my best isn't good enough.
You used to compliment me,
tell me sweet nothings,
but now it's hard to get a word out of you
that's anything more than complaints or commands.
I don't know how much longer I can handle feeling
so disrespected, because I've done some thinking,
and I deserve love.
Do I not help you with everything you need?
Do I not tuck you in each night?
Do I not run errands for you?
Do I not play doctor when you're sick?
Do I not kiss you the way you like?
Do I not sacrifice all of myself for you?
Do I not give you everything you need?
Because at this point, I'm tired of being accused for everything-
that I didn't do.
If my best just isn't good enough than what more can be done?
I'm giving you all I've got, and if that's not good enough, then you don't deserve all of me.

I feel helpless.
Like a very small fish
in a very small bowl.
But sometimes,
you make me feel
like an even smaller fish
in an infinitely vast ocean.

I am torn apart by the currents of your anger-
Tossed and shaken,
Until I am left confused and
Alone
in the depth of your problems,
which you choose not to share with me;
and watch in enjoyment
as I struggle to figure things out for myself.
But, at the end of the day, I know I will be captured yet again,
only to be placed back into my suffocating home-
where you tap on the glass,
until I turn
belly-up.

I love the way you stare at me blankly from behind your coffee.
You take slow, painstaking sips...
It suggests exciting ***.
I love the way you sensuously lick your lips,
every time you put the cup down.
I love the way you're not flirting with me.  
I love that you tell me your **** looks amazing in those leggings.

I know.  

I love the way you say my name-
distantly,
boringly,
disinterestedly.
Your mind a million miles away, on another man-
You tell me how nice his **** is.
I smirk and tell you I'm glad that we're friends.


You're a special kind of torture.

It's amazing how much you can miss a stranger.
It's amazing how much you wish you could hear their words.
Longing?

Maybe that isn't the right word.

You can admire a face
A perfect slender nose
Soft eyes that have seen more than you could ever imagine
Windows showing deep sadness-
A sweetness
She reflects your soul.

You might not know where they come from
Or where they are now
Or even their full name
But you know you enjoy their presence in your life, no matter how brief
Their words
Their stories
Their poems

It makes you feel full.
You can tell that she's wonderful,
elegant,
real,
infinitely deep.

And you're left,

longing...

between midnight and 3am.


But then again, maybe that's not the right word.

I shouldn't be telling you
that I think you're beautiful,
or that I think of you more often than I would like to admit.
And I shouldn't tell you that I must have read every single line 500 times.
I shouldn't say that I think you're perfect,
or that you make my heart flutter.
I shouldn't let you know that I look forward to seeing your name in my inbox.
I shouldn't say that I have never seen anybody radiate grace quite the way you do.
I shouldn't tell you that I fell asleep last night,
thinking of you.

Oh, hello lovely thing.
I want you to know that every time I close my eyes
I think of you
and I imagine your words are whispered to me
through each gentle breeze.
I can picture your gorgeous face,
and deep, sad eyes,
and I can see you're the most beautiful poem
ever written.
And every time I read your lines,
I linger on every word,
for I am truly overwhelmed by you.
There's never been a poem like you
and I suppose that's why
I cannot get you
off my mind.