I will travel the world with you.
Or just travel the country.
Or at least travel the distance
between your bottom lip
and your ear,
and the valleys between
each of your fingertips.
I will explore the surface
of your torso
and the depth of your mind.
I will study the curvature
of your jaw
and learn the history
of your eyes.
I will completely immerse myself
in your voice and your laughter
until I am no longer a tourist.
And THEN we can travel the world.

Your hands amaze me.
Strong yet tender.
The lightest touch from them
sends goosebumps trailing across my arms.
So soft and smooth
as you run your thumb across my cheek
-almost as an afterthought
before you turn away
and leave me standing here.
Breathless.

I've always wanted to be known
as the girl who was always laughing.
Someone carefree and whimsical.
A voice that can make you float to the clouds
and lay there next to her
not worrying of how much time has passed
and spending forever dancing through the sky
because nothing else mattered.

A girl with a smile that told a story
that would inspire and refresh you.
Her presence made the air feel lighter
and the night sky glow.
She made your day brighter
with a simple tune she hummed to herself
and you caught yourself singing along
and you didn't want to stop.

But to have happiness like that,
I think,
could never be possible
and that girl could never exist
outside of my minds eye
and the poems I write.
But even to have her as a work of fiction
is better than not at all
and for that,
I can never stop writing her.

Picking up the telephone to hear your voice
always comes as a shock.
It's so familiar
and yet so different.
You sound the same
but your honey-sweet words
seem to wrap around my throat
and make it impossible for me to speak.
A strangled cry the only thing
to escape my lips.

And then there's silence on the other end
as you realize that these words
don't settle warmly throughout me
like they used to just a short time ago.

Easy laughter no longer follows
your charming quips
and it makes you uncomfortable.
So you quickly make your excuses
and say your goodbyes
because we both know
that you won't stand to suffer.

And as I hang up
I try to remember the exact moment
when the air shifted
and we suddenly became strangers.

And I wonder where you've gone to.

I saw you today
for only a brief moment as you drove by.
Maybe on your way to work,
or to the grocery store,
or to the place you've begun to call home.
Anywhere but to be with me.

I saw you today
and it brought back a flood of memories-
of long late night talks,
of walking to the bus stop together
on chilly mornings,
of singing My Chemical Romance
at the top of our lungs.

I saw you today
and I wondered if this would be the last time.
Is this the last image I'd ever have of you?
A flash of unruly hair and glasses,
distracted by something in the rear view mirror?
Or would you come back out of the blue
and the feelings would become long forgotten?

I saw you today.
But you didn't see me.