I've drank the finest of wine
Down to the bottom of the bottle
Only to witness an ocean alone
Barely surviving my own hands

A fire burned through my viens
That was blew out by the wind
Breezing through the leaves
A calmness that sits with me
Before calmness dismisses me

I walked across the tallest blue sky
Where wide winged birds soar high
Til promises of white clouds turn grey
And so there I fell with the rain
Dripping through the lowest gutter

Many times I was buried, lying in dirt
Like a grave, needing no help
Finding the dark inside of myself
But I always rise with the blades
Of the greenest fresh spring grass

No matter what feeling I catch
None of them seem to everlast

I'm like the crumpled up poem in the deep of your coat pocket,
forgotten.
Until you reach your hand in, snaking around for your chapstick.
You write a few more words and then shove it back in,
waiting for your next stroke of inspiration,
your next breach of intrepidness.
But until then,
I'm just another crumpled receipt in your coat pocket.
Maybe one day I'll be able to tell you I love you.
Maybe one day you'll care.
But until then,
keep writing your mindful thoughts
on the crumpled up paper in your coat pocket.

He turned the idea over
and then turned it over again
examining it from odd angles
twisting it this way
stretching it that way
and came to the conclusion
that the only way out
the only thing he could do
was to lie

Not a clever lie
nothing that would be believable
no, it had to be
obvious
obnoxious
and obscenely so

He imagined her reading it
and smiling
and laughing
and knowing the truth
he had meant to hide inside of it
but had somehow
accidentally made perfectly clear

She would then
touch his shoulder gently
her smile still warm on her lips
and she would whisper
her own lie into his ear
and her own truth
would playful dance in her eyes

They would sit through
an awkward moment of silence
and then suddenly burst
out into a spontaneous gush
of embarrassing laughter

He would snort
and run out of breath
and she would cover her mouth
trying not to laugh harder
but fail miserably
and fall over laughing louder
and more rabidly than before

The laughter would turn to giggles
then turn to smiles
then turn to shy looks
and then small sighs

This moment would
be stolen by eternity
and crafted into a small jewel
and then broken in half
and then each half
would be embedded
into each of their hearts

He wouldn’t remember
how it had happened
but he would be holding her hand
while all this happened
and she would be looking
at all the past
and pain
and loss
and love
he kept hidden between the colors
and the pupils of his eyes

He would try to look away
try to keep some
of those secrets to himself
but he would be frozen there
trapped by the stopping of time
as helpless as a fresh born infant
and as giddy as a school boys first crush

She would read it all
she would understand it all
she would be grateful
for the intimacy
of knowing these things
and she would treat
this knowledge with grace and respect

The silent moment would return
but the awkwardness would not be there
they would both hear
the cracking of a fireplace
that was not there
but still
somehow warmed the room

A greater truth would be
waiting patiently on her lips
inviting him to taste
its sweetness with his own

They would both lean in
at the same time...

Then

“****!”

she disappeared
and he suddenly remembered
that she wasn’t real
that she didn’t exist
that she was the imagined creation
of his wandering heart
someone for him to write
fictional love poems to
A distraction from any real person
who he might grow affectionate towards

He wrote down the lie
and crossed it out
and then wrote down another lie

He read it
and re-read it
tried to imagine her laughter again
but she didn’t laugh
so he crossed it out
and tried again

Another lie
and then another
scribbled and scratched
typed and edited
rewrote and deleted
then rearranged in his head
and written down one more time

She laughed so hard this time
he was afraid she might be taken away
mistaken for a madwoman
and he almost crossed it out again

But her laughter was perfect
with a pinch of a cackle
a douse of innocence
a shake of honesty
and for good measure

a sprinkle of love

He dotted the “i’s”
and crossed the “‘t’s”
and smiled

It was a good lie
maybe not his best
but his own heart was fooled
and it was happy
and that seemed good enough

He put his pen down
and closed his sketch pad
he stood up and stretched
the smile was still there
and he could still hear her laughter

but in the corner of his lips
there was an almost
unnoticeable sadness
a lingering loneliness

Something he would
never admit to tasting
to knowing was there

He walked into the bathroom
ready to shower away
the aches and pains
of his slowly aging bones

he paused in front
of his reflection in the mirror
and for a brief moment
thought he saw himself
flicker in and out of existence

A brief moment of both
panic and joy swept over him
as he wondered if
he was possibly
the character that didn’t exist

that he was nothing more
than a fevered dream
of a lonely and desperate heart

Wouldn’t that be funny he thought
as he stripped himself bare
and then stepped into the bath
and pulled the curtain close

He laughed a good laugh
an honest laugh
a laugh laced
with the magic of snow
and the innocence of children
and then melted
under the steam and hot water
and slipped down the drain
and was never seen
or heard from again