i’m waiting under the covers.
television on
drowning out the silence.
half asleep
half awake
always in a dream like state.
i look over
at the empty space beside me.
bare, cold sheets
yearning for attention,
craving some affection.

it’s 10:43, i miss you. so i’m smoking a cigarette.
it’s 10:44, time is going by slow. i keep thinking of  lyrics that remind me of you.
it’s 10:45, i put out my cigarette. why aren’t you here? i can’t stop thinking about you.
it’s 10:46, is it possible you miss me too?
it’s 10:47, my feelings haven’t changed.

i asked the universe to send me someone,
someone who was right for me.
i asked the world to show me something,
something marvelous to see.
i asked the wind to blow my way,
and let me have a brighter day.
i asked the birds to sing a song,
a song to help me move along.
then it happened, one fateful night.
above the moon, it shined so bright.
i looked over and then i saw you.
and i think i saw you see me too.
now i thank the birds who sang to me,
i sing them back my own melody.
i thank the wind who brought me better days,
i’m grateful they lifted the horrible haze.
i bow to the world who opened by eyes,
and let the sun shine down from the skies.
i love my universe so dear,
for now i will hold you ever near.

we spent all our time
curled up like cats
in his bed
with a broken mattress.
this is home.

the taste of your mouth
lingers on my lips,
taunting me with memories
of our bodies entangled in my bed sheets.
how am i supposed to forget
the static of your breath against my neck,
and my hands on your beating chest?
the places on my body
where your hands had touched
leaves a tingling that makes me
yearn for more.
i crave you.

i’m disappointed.
i’m dismayed.
i’m distressed.
i’m disturbed.
i’m dramatic.
i’m dreadful.
i’m dark.
i’m devious.
i’m demented.
i’m depressed.

don’t you see me
over here
suffering alone
comforted only by
this aching
gaping
hole in my chest
i hide in the dark
ignoring not only the world
but myself

It's not about you,
not anymore.
It's about how
I feel like a stranger
lying next to you,
on your futon on the floor
of your best friend's loft.
It's about how you say,
"No,
I cannot kiss you right now,
for my lips are dry."
It's about how
when the buildings
around us start collapsing,
you run to safety,
and forget that I'm
still asleep on the couch
It's about how
when my hair is done,
and pulled slightly to the side,
you say, "But it looks better,
the other way."
It's not about you,
or the way you walk
with confidence and charm,
or how I could gaze in your eyes,
for infinity.

It's about how
I cry when I watch
romantic French dramas,
and how I love
collecting withered flowers,
in empty alcohol bottles
It's about all the things,
you've never thought to ask
and all the days,
you've ignored the way
I have longed for you.
No,
it will never be about you,
not anymore.
This time,
it's about me.

It will always be you.
In the corners of my restless
mind, when I close my eyes,
and open them again.
You are a heart murmur
that taunts my waking day,
the inevitable gust of wind,
from the ocean to the shore.
A broken electrical socket
that I refuse to replace.

him:*      if i were there, i'd be a tourist, you know.
me:       and i'd kiss you longer than i've kissed any tourist.
him:      if you kissed me, i'd be the last tourist you kissed.

last night
i fell asleep in your arms.
you pulled me
close to your chest
and kissed my head
and told me
that you loved me.

this morning
i woke up in your arms
i didn’t have to
turn around
and look for you
i felt you there
sleeping beside me.

darling,
i know you're feeling sad,
that things are getting hard,
and we're so far apart.
but don’t give up,
don’t let go,
don’t doubt anything.
pretend you're here with me in bed,
so that i could rub your shoulders
which carry so much.
i will run my fingers through your hair,
to brush away all uncertainties.
and even though it hurts like hell
without you,
the hope of seeing you soon
eases my weary soul.
so don’t worry baby,
everything will turn out alright.

a small grey cat
sits upon my window sill
staring at the moon
i wonder if she wants it
half as bad
as i want you.

it’s been so long
that you’ve been gone
yet the electricity in your touch
has lingered inside of me
for much longer than our time spent apart.
and now,
you’re back again
with that same transcendentalist stride
holding the world in your hands
as if you were a god
and if you are to be so powerful
please, by all means
take my fate into your strong hands
and make me everything you need
create, in me
an everlasting love
with enough will to conquer galaxies
and enough hope
to save whatever is left
of this humanity.

last night i slept away
from you, my love.
my bed sheets were cold,
and the other side
of my bed
- much too large for myself,
was vacant.
did you miss me at all?
your arms around me
my back against your chest
the television flickering in the background.
when you awoke
were you surprised i was not there
to turn to you
as the sun broke through the morning sky?

your pounding heart against my face
as its pressed against your chest
grounds me from my place in the clouds
my head filled with worries is soothed
by the rhythmic thumping of your heart
i close my eyes and breathe in all of you
your hand pulling me closer,
your face pushed against mine
and when i open up my eyes again
looking up at your soft pink lips
i remember how they touched each other
while you whispered sweet words into my neck
and each timed they lay upon mine
my heart races as it did the first time
i knew then that this feeling would stay,
i hope you do too.

tonight i dreamt
that you were here
and coaxed me into bed.
last night i dreamt
that you were near
not a vision in my head.
tomorrow i will dream again
of things i hope i’ll find.
but i really shouldn't play pretend
or i will loose my mind.

feeling your body next to mine
is still as exhilarating
as the first time
we were tangled in your sheets -
your hands slid down
my thighs
my breath was heavy and
hot against your neck
it was summer then
the nights were warm and sticky
and we ran about like hopeless fools
trying to take advantage of
our youth
now evenings grow crisp
i snuggle closer
stealing your warmth
you pull me in against your chest
listening to the steady beat
of your fragile
heart
sends chills down my spine
just like the first time.
tell me,
my handsome lover,
that even as the seasons change
you won’t let me go.

you kissed the moon
she kissed you too
that night was painted
black and blue

the world is dark
ah, but here she comes
a bright, floating orb
equally as beautiful as the sun

but love her tender,
even as the night goes by
never tear those golden eyes
from her place in the sky

yes, it is true
that the night will soon go
and the lovers will say goodbye
and their hearts will sink low

as sure as the sun rises,
so will she
that naive, florescent globe
hanging lightly over the sea

the world will once again
be painted black and blue
because you kissed the moon
and she kissed you too.

glistening in the night
she waits impatiently.
woes and fears lurking
in every shadow.
her heart aches silently,
such a beautiful sorrow.
she is so lonely, you see,
this gorgeous, shimmering orb.
all of her desires
are unattainable, it seems.
not one soul even dares to try
and pull her down from the sky
finally filling that void
that deep longing
for a human touch.

the extra small shirt,
that hugs your chest
in all the right places.
a warm, winter pea coat,
on a cold, windy evening.
glasses that are a little bit stretched out
so that you may push me closer
to your face when I start to fall.
the most delicate parts
of your daily routine,
i want to invade it and be part
of your adventurous life.

i am the cat
that roams around the neighborhood.
always wanders
never stays
belongs to no one.
i sit in the sill of a strange house
i don’t want to leave
but seasons change
and once again i’m on a journey.
some day i’ll find it
whatever it is
whoever it will be
i’ll never ever ever leave.
i’ll be content.
it may not come soon
but it will come.
as sure as the sun rises
much to early in the morning
there you’ll see me
walking
drifting
forever looking.
going, going
gone.

i can’t help
that you make me feel like a rose
on a cool afternoon.
sitting in the window
of an apartment looking over the park.
i sit there,
as a rose,
solitary and alone.
my light shades of pink
glimmering dimly in the distance.
it is as if i’m screaming,
look at me,
aren’t i pretty?
but by the time you look up
from the dusky street of the city,
my petals are withered and my bud is facing the ground.
like a heart that is broken.

The cheap gold chain
you gave me for Christmas
broke in three different places.
The Polaroids I took
during our brief love affair
are falling off my wall
one by one.
The dress I wore,
the one that makes you sweat,
sits untouched in a box
in a dark corner of my closet.
The love we shared,
or what I thought was love,
collects dust, and rots
in the hole in my chest
where you ripped out my heart.
You thought, that without your touch,
our love would stay untainted.
But that's just it,
we didn't share our love.
We didn't kindle it with care.
I kept your love in a box,
and wore it around my neck,
so that it would always be close.
But you stuck my love,
in the "everything drawer"
the one that's too messy,
and filled with past lovers.
Now, our love is
broken in three different places,
falling apart piece by piece,
stuffed in the dark corners of your mind.
Is this the untainted love
that you were looking for?

give me bruises, baby.
i want to feel the pain.
if you can’t give me
sweet, soft love
then make my body strain.

you can take my blankets
and put them in your room
because they are useless in mine
if i plan to sleep with you
for the rest of my life.

I found myself by your
old apartment. I remember
the first time I had trudged
up these stairs, the first time my hands
had touched the bronze ****
to open your front door. Being here,
again, was not the same.
You were not here.

I knocked on the front door, greeted
by your old roommate, who had
the same delightful grin plastered
on his bearded mouth. Shuffling my feet,
He invited me in.
The walls were bare, carefully decorated
with about a dozen records,
a few art pieces, and a large illuminated
OPEN sign. It looked different
than before when you were here.

I sat on the couch as he made me a cup
of coffee; I imagined you laying me
carefully on the stained, white couch.
What would it be like to look
into your eyes again? I want to see
if you could see through my eyes,
and if I could do the same. I let myself
onto your balcony to smoke a cigarette.
The smoke danced around my fingertips
as I leaned against the railing, and looked
over my shoulder, in the corner,
where I remember the first time
I wanted to kiss you.

A few years ago, at one of your
swanky parties, I was standing
on the balcony looking into the party
through the glass doors. You were
across the room, talking to a young woman
with a smile playing on your mouth.
You looked so completely engaged
in what she was saying, and your eyes gleamed
as you looked at her and touched
her softly. What would I have to do
to be that woman, so that
I may grasp your face
between my delicate hands and kiss you,
because of how beautiful you were.

As a bid your old roommate goodbye, I also
said goodbye to the building where I had fallen
for you.  Perhaps it is good that I did this,
so that I can let go of whatever I thought
we could have been.