Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

Follow your dreams
Is what we're told.
Burst at the seams
Let creativity flow.

But on the safe path
We tend to go.
For it would be daft
To perform at shows.

They sparked quite a fire
Then quenched our appetite.
Our dreams, they expired
They were scared off in a fright.

You might not know
That you even have a dream.
Our hunt for dough
Has become so extreme.

Engineering or law
Your dream might very well be.
But when you strip down to raw
Is that who you see?

A dream is crazy
A dream takes chances
A dream makes sacrifices
A dream is subconscious

Some say dreams are impossible
Some say your dreams are impossible

But to me
A dream is a part of you
That once removed
Makes you, not you

So find your dream
And make it happen.
Hard it may seem
Just do it with passion.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.

The nightmare of falling
to an endless void
Risking everything to land on nothing
Reaching out my hand to hold onto darkness
But instead of pulling me out,
It pulls me deeper within
I close my eyes I see pitch black
I open them I see no difference
All that is gone and all that is dark
Nothing comes close to true peace but this
Fear shrouds like a warm blanket thru the cold void
And my body continue to fall
And my spirit ascends to paradise

j u
     s t
           t a
               k e
                      m e
                               a w
                                      a y

I wrote no poems yesterday;
my mind was somewhere else.
It mostly minded you, Ms. Mystic,
and thought of little else.

My pen and paper hesitation
came from your superb self.
Words scratched out -- Nouns and Verbs --
because none of them quite work.

Imagination -- the one true author --
speaks no lies to me.
She describes you in elegant tongues
telling no one what I see.

I don't ask for sympathy.

I won't ask for love.

I'll wait until my judgement day to make peace with God above.

I don't take what isn't mine.

I won't kneel down to pray.

I've worked too hard for too **** long for far too ****** pay.

I don't know where this is going.

But I know, now, how it'll end.

I'll live, I'll work, I'll die and then-

I'll do it all again.

The moon is hiding in
her  hair

i used to be
afraid of death
isn't that funny
because now
i like killing myself
i like the feeling of
being torn apart by
other people's opinions
i beg them to tell the truth
even when i know
it's not what i want to hear
tell me
tell me you liked my hair longer
before i cut it short
tell me
tell me i'm too skinny
that i should put on some weight
tell me
tell me you're shocked
tell me i should know these basic things
i want the truth
not a sugar coating
and i don't exactly want it to hurt
but i'm starting to think
it is better than nothing