The worst part
About your goodbye
Is that you didn't even
Say it
I just figured it out
On my own

Poems aren't always written
With a paper an pencil
They aren't always typed
In ink and with a signature
Sometimes poems are written
With the lips of a teary-eyed lover
Or the laughter of a young hospital patient
Or even the silence of two comfortable friends

I saw you
In my dream
Last night
And I saw myself
Too

I saw the way
You kissed me
And I saw the way
I kissed you
Too

I saw the way
You hurt me
And I saw the way
I hurt you too

When I woke up
All I could see was the way
I miss you
But I don't see you
Missing me
Too

I'm not the first thing on your
Checklist
I don't even think I make
A guest appearance
I can feel you slipping out of
My hands
Like water
You are cold and fleeting
And the worst part is
I know it's the best for you

Have you ever woken up one morning
With an overwhelmingly existential anxiety
Surrounding the inevitability
Of loneliness and dissatisfaction
With love as society has made it out to be
And the reality of the meaning of the word?

Nearly every single one of us humans,
If not all,
Dub ourselves "alone"
While simultaneously and obliviously relating
To each and every man or woman
Who has and will ever exhale
Into the earth's atmosphere
Unaware of each other's potential and ability
To connect with one another.

Our breaths conjugate
As they are ejected from our mouths,
As our feelings should,
Yet it is not as simple
It is not as simple as an involuntary respiration
Though it should be
It should be!

Why should I,
Another breather on this planet,
Feel as though my emotions
Are much too obscure and unfathomable
For a breather much like myself to comprehend?
Meanwhile in the other room
A man is breathing in the same air I am
And he is feeling the same way I am
-"alone"

Life

That's a poem, right?

Unaware of my destination,
I'm imagining my days away,
A man with a vivid imagination,
My thoughts often wander too far,
I drew a very detailed picture of hers,
Yes t'was in my mind and not real,
But I ain't a good painter at all,
So I painted her in my mind,
She's a dream-come-true.

She had an explorer's intuition
and a head full of dreams
that would suffocate
in this one light town.

I'd seen it since the beginning

and had to suppress
my selfish urge
to clip her wings
and keep her here.

But even so,
as we said our goodbyes
my eyes filled with hot tears.

I'll miss you so much
My voice cracked audibly.

Don't worry, Love.
I'm only beginning a new adventure.
Turning a new leaf.
Starting a new chapter.

I'll be back before you know...

And with that she was gone.
I waited until her plane took off,
and thanked God that I knew her.