I really can't live
with the thoughts of having you
or loving you.
Once bitten,
twice shy,
the fragile are always
hesitant
& I'm sorry for this

......

The first time you
Said hello to me,
I didn't even know whether
To freeze at the fact
That you were acknowledging my existence
Or to freeze at the ******* fact
That YOU were acknowledging my mere existence.

She was a writer
& I fall inlove **** easily.
With her metaphors, similes, sonnets
on Sunday mornings.
but she never
wrote about me

"I loved you
but you never quite loved me"(past tense)

Concrete would crack
and grow  
old before
you ever admitted that you needed me
& at the time I didn't think
much of it
Because my mind
Was years ahead,
contemplating on which
apartment we should call
"Ours",
but  I should've seen the signs
and listened to my fragile
but accurate heart.
I chose not to,
Because who would?

(Nothing good ever comes
from listening to the voice
Inside your chest)

This poem is about you,
but it is also not about you.
Because if I leave you under
the impression that it's meant for
somebody else,
I might be able to salvage
my barley-breathing pride and still remain sane

Or I could swallow it.
In the hope that it doesn't claw it's
Way out of my mouth
& whisper the words
"I still love you"

That would be awful..

I wasn't the type
to write everyday,
or even to get inspired easily.
but I was the type to fall
in love each day.

Not necessarily with people,

but with the most simple &
common of things. The
Smile of a stranger reminded
me that the hearts of man
were still kind.

The warmth of the sun, on my face
Each day, quietly whispered
that things would be okay

and finally, the shapes the
clouds took on an overcast day
insisted that there was
beauty in sadness, in solitude.

I honestly believe that I'll die
In awe of this un appreciated
world and that breaks my
Heart

You need to appreciate life more
Remember when you were younger and your only focus was cartoons and nature
Why did we change
Why can't we climb trees and slide down plastic tubes bursting out the end like water from a pipe
Why can't we hold hands when we cross the street
Why can't we enjoy being in public with our parents
Truth is, we as in earhlings are stupid
We think we've mastered everything there is to master but...
We have yet to meet our master
Go outside and let the sun shower you
Let the grass tickle your feet
Don't act like you're too good to be happy
Or do whatever you like.