I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.

the voices around you grow to a roar
a crescendo of celebration and excitement
the heat from everyone surrounds you
a blanket of sweat and musk
the fireworks in the sky keep exploding
a breathtaking show of glittery brilliance
the weight in your heart sits
a sisyphus boulder that never seems to go away


*you're standing amidst the countdown crowd right at the city centre with all these overjoyed and possibly drunk people, the cheers erupt with each fresh firework blossoming yet in this humid climate all you feel is the wind blowing, the chilling pinpricks of a light drizzle. you remember how you love fireworks- their spark and the heart-in-mouth explosions and it all turns to dust in you because you can't find any joy in them now. lately it seems like all you have is dust.

Stepping in the middle of a hurricane fire waiting for the winter to blow
Somebody was listening but you were on your way to Mexico
Down there, they won't care if you want to run around town
The women don't love you but the one you do sleeps in a Minnesota town

Can you see the horizon falling like a diamond in the middle of the violet sky?
You thought you were clear until a tear came to your eye
Everything was moving along and you had your pride in your hand
Now you've got a decision, do you run or fight like a man?

Somewhere in the city where everything was pretty, you found the windowpane
You saw her silhouette burning like a jet through the campfire rain
You shouted out and saw her open up the window to her moonlit room
As a man grabbed her waist, froze you in place, now you've gotta move on too

I'm tired of wasting my poetry on you
I can't remember how to write happy.
You ravage my mind. constantly.
Quietly lurking until you attack me
from the inside out
so I sit in the shower, naked
and try to wash the last of you off my skin
as if I can wash your memory away.
No, your ghost digs in,
burrowing deep in my soul
settling in for a long winter
and what am I to do
but bask in the glow of your memory
clinging to the strands of goodness
and let my self be wasted in our past
because it is so much better than a future alone.

He only lost her when
the music stopped

inner light faded from her face
her narrow arms, restless eels
winding through her shirt
snapping at the rising buzz
of voices, increasingly unbearable.

The teacher swooped in, miming
arms held close, contained; too late
for the pianist, armed with her name
and a captive audience, he accented
her frailty with two sharp syllables

and she was gone from there
to some mysterious world  
away from the crowd frozen
in the silent beat after
the reprimand.

It was only a moment
before the music resumed
opening notes vibrated up
through her toes, lovely arms
unraveled and rose overhead

her radiant smile
unfurled like forgiveness.