Contrast of colors
Ever changing morning
To afternoon
Azure and alive
Cerulean and so
simple
Whipping wind
resists my skin,
my body,
it tries to get past me,
quickly, quickly
tries to hold my hand,
says
"Get up and play with me."
the sun smiles
sadly
she says "I am here
but you cannot feel me
the wind is stealing
my song."
i do not mind
so much
the wind is free
and running
much like i want to be

So selfish
No one but me
and you
I've lost it, I've lost it
find me again
hold me close
don't let me go
it's been so long
and my feelings are waning
but i love you, i love you
can't we repeat the past?
Gatsby's green light is glowing
in my eyes
i want you to want me
the way you did
and i want to want you
the way i did
when the green light
was still bright
when every second meant us
and every truth meant love

i'm writing poems
you may never see
because they'd hurt your feelings
and break your heart
but i love you
until i can't anymore
(which is never, of course)
and you'll love me
with or without
a hazy cloud of smoke
dancing around your head
and i will stick around
and wave the cloud away
and gently kiss
your forehead

i love you and i'll never stop
and when the going gets tough
i will think of you and smile
and when they call me a ****
and make-believe my honesty for promiscuity
you and i will know
that it was only ever you and me
i will look at them
and i'll be filled with disdain
and i will light the candle in my heart
for my far away lover
who is the only one who will ever have me
and i will say what i want
and do as i please
and they will talk about me
and you will love me still

there's disgust in my eyes
and i can't breathe
his mom comes in
and sees
the bongs and the cigs
and fourteen year old girls
and a fourteen year old boy
and a twenty year old man
and me
she smiles and closes the door
and i can't breathe
because this is normal here
and she got high with them last night
and she probably will again
when i'm long gone
and i can't believe this is your life
and i feel sick to my stomach
and it has nothing to do
with the skunk in the air
but with the "mother" downstairs
and the deadbeats,
the broken,
and the painfully innocent
up here

he was beautiful
and kind
he was tall
and shy
but smooth
and he knew how to touch a girl
before i even kissed a boy
and he grew up too fast
and i still can't do laundry
but he was beautiful
and he was mine

are you
or are you not?
who really
gives
a
****