I knew you
or knew of
you

I almost
knew you
I suppose

But I didn't get
the chance.
I'm not sure if
the chance
was offered
or not.

I don't know if
I could have been
your friend,
a confidant,
(your savior?)
I don't know that
I could have
helped.

But maybe...
I could have
said something,
done something,
simply sat in your
presence
until you felt

like existance was
managable.
Until you felt
worthy,
valued,
realized your importance.

Until you felt
like you could
stay.
(God, how I
wish you had
stayed)

But before I got the chance...

You put that gun to your  head.

You put that noose around your neck.

You put that knife to your wrist.

You took one or two pills,
too many.

You left me here.

ALL of you,
(even if I never knew you)
left me here,
and I'll never know if
I could have

Helped

If I could have
helped make it
okay,
manageable,
real,
made you feel loved.
(because I would have loved you)

But I want you to know...

I wanted to.

Every time I kiss you
After a long separation
I feel
I am putting a hurried love letter
In a red mailbox.

What's your favorite flower?

If we could stay inside all day,
laying on the bed together
amidst our books and papers and photographs

Maybe the lawn's on fire,
but we smile at each other
the grass stays green & there's no housework

I'll kiss you behind your ear and lead you into the garden
I'll hold your hand and give you the heart you stole
we'll drink cold water and inhale the cool breeze under a black silky sky,
liquid stars

Even if the neighborhood is under attack
we'll be ok in our house
listening to our breaths and diffusing the bombs under our bed.

The wave,
Not slow, not rolling,
All the sudden crashing,
Crashing over me, All of me

It's this day
There's a feeling about it
One all its own
It holds the truth...
You're gone

I walk, ever so steady
One foot in front, then switch
A concentration...Just to not fall
Past concrete and marble,
To one etching

This one etching
Not only engraved in stone,
But the most in my mind
A name, a few dates
The last date lining up
With the day my wave hit

The rain sinks into cotton
Drenching my shoulders, my heart
I stand, I'm still, I weep
Weep with the rain.

My sorrow,
My maddness
Is not because of you.
No, it's because of
The absence of you

Retrace my steps
No looking back
My moan marking your eternal place
I'm done tumbling through the water
Though I still can not find breath

Everything else today
Everything felt, everything thought,
All took flight
Because all that matters
Is I miss you.
I love you.
And...
I can never have you.

This wave, this wave I feel
Swept you away with the tide
No sweet endings,
No goodbyes.

Today, I remember
Times fought, and times lost
On this day, I remember you
Your lovely, smiling face
But the wave will wash that smile
Maybe from the sand,
But not from my heart.
Never this heart.

E'en in a city that doesn't sleep,
The moon fools us lovers with promise of dreams,
With promise of light and touch and caress,
one kiss stolen in moonlight,
one hushed bated breath.

The crystal siren may have robbed us of our tears,
but she can never steal those that music brings to our eyes,
those that a broken heart tears from our soul,
those that a kiss goodbye wrenches from our hearts.

It would be so easy to fall back,
On to the train tracks,
On to a habit,
On to my needle,
Into your arms,
Into a dream,
Into your heart,
Such love and grace,
From fallen angels as we.

The moon fools us lovers
With promise of dreams
E'en when those dreams
Come apart at their seams

So many offers,
So many looking,
To get away,
To give love,
To lose pain,
No wonder we run away,
No wonder we try to fly.

The moon fools us lovers,
Knowing I am the king of fools.

456

So well that I can live without—
I love thee—then How well is that?
As well as Jesus?
Prove it me
That He—loved Men—
As I—love thee—

We made hearts of paper mache and gave them to each other.

I saved yours in the bottom drawer of my desk
carefully kept, away from the dust and decay
of my adolescent bedroom.
It was safe, clean and pristine,
and I had no intention of hurting it.

I think you shoved mine between the spines of notebooks,
littered with skateboard stickers.
Over time it splintered and withered and
while you were digging for your printer
You found it.

When you gave it back, it had turned black
and blue with ink and paint residue.
I held it broken, battered, and used,
I felt the fragment pain ensue
I guess the best things you give end up coming back to you.