he stood
like the Vulcan in the moonlight
his arm outright
glistening in the glowing firelight
naked in the cold
“time is not real,”
he said,
like it meant something
but it didn’t
time moved on.
soon the high faded
work, school,
pop songs on the radio,
everything changes.

Sometimes
I pretend that you died
It's easier
Sometimes
I pretend the stars are gods
Guiding me
Like there is a reason
For everything
A reason why you met me
And left me
Questioning myself
What's real, what's imagined
Sometimes
I lie so well
I forget the truth.

there is more to life than love,
but everyone is in such a rush.
slow down, there will be time
for weddings
and babies
and buying a house.
remember when
we used to stay out all night
just driving around
with the windows down?
we would dream of getting older,
all the places we would go...
we were going to travel to Europe together
and maybe never come back.
but now i'm alone in this sentiment
everyone so blinded by love
maybe i just got it out of my system
high school boyfriends never worked.
or maybe everyone just found "the one"
and mine was "the one that got away"
or maybe some people are just content
with the small town they grew up in.
but not me
there is **** to do and people to see.
every now and then
i get lonely, so i try,
but if a relationship gets too cozy,
i get the urge to run,
and i cannot fathom
why the rest don't do the same.

my childhood friends are all married,
or living together,
or planning weddings,
and I’m alone.
so, they try to hook me up
with matt’s or kevin’s or john’s.
“it will click,
when you find the right one.”
i know what they mean.
it’s already happened, i’m done.
i’ve seen the moon
glistening on the forehead.
i’ve felt the touch,
pale fingers on my arms.
i’ve heard the voice
soft, sweet, and clear…
i’m not interested in trying anymore
my mr. right
has already come and gone.

you, glistening in the coffee shop
skin like aged bronze
Michelangelo could not have done better
you laugh like smooth silver
and amber fills your eyes.
i’ve never been one for fine metals
i’ve never wanted a gem to dote upon
but there are diamonds in your fingertips
gold lacing your tongue
isn’t there a future in mining?
isn’t there a market for ore?
i shouldn’t think myself worthy
priceless art hangs in museums
statues sit in gardens of nice cities
but i would guard you with
my asphalt eyes
and concrete skin
every day as the sun rises up
and then falls again.

As the first rays of morning
Rise over the city I once loved
And I stand on the balcony
One last cigarette in the cold
Your face in my memory:
A blur of pale, blonde, glasses
And eyes that cut through time
No matter how much of it passes
I want to go back to that feeling
The night I saw you dance
In the moonlight by the coffee shop
Will I see you once again?
This city crumbles around me.
Birmingham in December.
The life I had to leave,
I hope you will remember.

i don’t know anymore
the parts of me that are genuine
from those which are stolen.
i just don’t know.

your golden statue does not quiver
the words that you sent three years ago
the cat licks his paw in the corner
he has forgotten by now.

the wild blue eyes that were tamed by your glasses
the thin silver rim against pale white skin
the way you would sway while playing your guitar
your gentle way of letting me in…

i knew the second i first saw you
that my life had changed
but it took a while to realize
that i would change too

i’ve taken bits and fragments
when no one was looking,
i threw out old pieces
to fit the new

three years have passed
the barista
the accountant
the librarian

all different versions of myself
yet still i can’t put my finger on it
i still don’t know what is left
what is it that was taken?

three years
and i’ve become
everything
that you would have
wanted me
to be.