I miss France. I miss the
buildings.
I miss the adventures
I wanted to have
I almost had
I miss you.
The reason I came back.
You were so glad that I came back
and I was
so scared to lose you

in the end
and then
I did
and then you left
to where my France
exists
inside my head.

I have come
To a standstill
A point in time
When the *****
Running down
My throat suddenly
Tastes a lot
Like love
Like beauty
Like lust

It's not fair that I wait up all night for you.
I'm not saying that it's your fault;
I'm just saying that it isn't fair.

It's not fair that I got too serious.
I'm not saying that it was my fault;
I'm just saying that it isn't fair.

It's not fair that I'm too stressed to smile.
I'm not saying it's the world's fault;
I'm just saying that it isn't fair.

It isn't fair that I'm writing sad poems at midnight.
I am saying that it's your fault,
but I guess not entirely.

Fold, crease, unfold, repeat, turn over, fold, crease, unfold, repeat.
New sheet of paper, same thing, again and again and again
One chance, only one wish
One wish for a thousand paper cranes.

Underneath a quilt
that was
always on your bed
that you left
when times got
hard and the
baby cried at
night

I'm nodding
away
nodding off
to Blue
Moon
to the
saxophone
soothing
years of where
I didn't think
you'd go and
I never thought
I'd stay.

It's raining in
a mist tonight
just like you
said it would

and I am chilled
to my bones

and in every swirling
blend of deep violet
the deepest shade
of a night
violet
I fall into
abyss.

in my world of gray

you were fire

i mistook you for colour

but you left everything

black & gray