Your words trickle smoothly
through the emptiness
of a 2 o'clock evening.
I savor each word;
a drop of honey,
smooth jazz.
Neither as sweet
or soothingly cool
as you.

A craving.
Another cigarette
held gingerly between
*******,
two lips.
You dance like smoke.
Mystery.  

An aura of beauty
cascades around your entire being.
Your hair falls as refreshingly as rain,
and your eyes are soft blankets that
I can feel my soul curl up with.

Your presence is bewildering.


Another hopeless romance.

You're graceful
And I know that you say that your shower
curtain is your biggest fan,
but I think I'm slowly becoming
your biggest fan instead.
I bet your voice reflects your soul-
dark
mysterious
tinted glass.
I wrap myself up at night
with thoughts of you.
And maybe I shouldn't be saying this,
but some things are too hopeless
to not be expressed.
You are beautiful in your everyday way of being.
Your language and expression
are artistic,
poetic-
breathtaking;
and I often catch myself thinking of you.
Even when I'm fairly certain,
you're not thinking of me.
I bet the dark countryside is jealous
of your enrapturing beauty,
and I'm sure that when I'm looking at the moon,
I can feel the presence of your soul.
I wait until the sun rises, and I bask in its warmth,
to remind me of the way
you make me feel.

Have you ever felt
Like you live off sunlight?
******* in the tiny photons?
Filling up every darkened corner?
Making up for all the holes?
The sun, it's blinding.
I mean, what a distraction!
There's cracks in my heart.
That even I can't see.
I'm missing some bits of me.
Lost along the way,
But it's okay,
I've found the sunlight!
And it's so bright,
it makes it hard for me to remember.
What I was missing,
In the first place..
Oh, I remember!
I was missing sunlight.
Yes.
That must be it.
Missing Sunlight.
And nothing more..

You're the one I never got over.
But it's been years,
and I'll never tell you that.  

I still leave your stations on my pandora.

You'll never know
the little pieces
that I refuse to let go.

I live inside these walls.
Everywhere I go.
I've tried to make it home.
I've tried to let it go.

I've put up pictures, good as new
But I still feel that somethings missing.
I've left the walls a time or two
But I start to feel like I am slipping

So I rush back to my closed walls
The dusty, old, forgotten halls
And run my hands across old pictures
Faded paintings, broke light fixtures

I think you've forgotten about me here
A long time ago, when we grew apart
But I am still stuck lingering here
Inside the walls of your broken heart.