"you like him."
she said it like it was a statement, not a question.
"uh...not really?"
I tried to be nonchalant, convincing.
"you do. I can see it in your eyes.
when you feel like no one's looking,     you look at him
and absorb all his features, and the smallest of smiles appears on your face.
and when he is looking-at you in specific-
your whole face glows. it's like he's the sun,
and you temporarily share all his warmth and light.
it's beautiful."

i always thought
you were thru traffic
that you were just jet lag
background noise
the kiss in the rain
i've never had
but what if you aren't?
what if this
was the thousandth time
i have loved you?
what if this is just a fresh coat of paint?
what if god
keeps a handkerchief
soaked in the day we met
next to his bed?
maybe theres a reason
i reach for no one in bed
the way i would
if someone used to be there
you know, they say
the road behind us
is littered with things
we couldn't hold onto
i wonder how many times
you've slipped through my hands
like hour glass sand
do you know
how much erosion you've caused?
i heard cupid
stopped keeping count
of how many times
we came together
just to come apart again
maybe it was just a rumor
it makes me think
about how many times
i've almost had you
like if all this talk
about history repeating itself
endlessly replaying is true
i wonder how many times
things have happened already
like the time
i tried talking you
into loving me back
back fired
or the time i could have sworn
jesus & lazarus were playing chess
with my heartbeat
but it was only you smiling
how many times
have i tried to tell you
how many times
have you read this poem
how many times
have i tried not to meet you
in my dreams anymore
it's like sleep tries to warn
me of what's happening
before it does but
i keep having this dream
where i tell you bedtime stories
and each one
is a different way you die
and in every one
i can never save you
it's like you're this song
i have on repeat
and every time it starts over
i forget the words
it's like you picked up the book entitled "us"
and the back cover
said you'd leave
so you never bothered reading it
tell me you aren't
going back in that bookstore
just to do it again
or will you tell me tomorrow?
or is this the time
you don't say anything at all?
if this has all happened before
if we call it quits
before we begin
again
from the beginning
i just want to ask you
to be my fire
because i am tired
of these old lives
and i'd like to see them
burn

they caught me
lying in the corner cradling my body
crying for help and praying for a god that didn't exist
they caught me with my chest split open
a still picture of my beating heart
vulnerable and gasping for human touch
finding love in places it doesn't belong
to feed my constant loneliness
with constant attention and fake affection
they caught me
with makeup stains on the pillow
at 3 in the morning
with gritted teeth and puffy eyes
that lay empty on my face just begging for relief

they told me they could save me
and take away my fear
they told me that there's a place
where I could disappear
they brought me to a rabbit hole
hidden deep inside my mind
that led me to a wonderland that was only mine

*I could stay here forever.

Funny how a phone call can
Place a kiss upon a
Heart that needs one.

Friend, more.
Whatever you
Want.
I'm done with judging
Doors and their timing.

I could need your healing
For decades.

It would be best
To go- our separate ways
And if- I didn't know better
I would ask you to stay

All we were doing...
Was living- in the past
I should have known
We'd never last

As I sit here- all alone
I am left- to wonder
About the unknown
And try- to find my way
Back Home.

I don't want pretty flowers
or jewels from distant lands
nor a glass of sparkling champers
as we eat in restaurants grand.
I have no need for riches
nor to lay on foreign sands,
I just want all my clothes ripped off
by rough and eager hands.

Do not unwrap me gently
like fragile, precious gifts,
please tear and break me open
with your teeth and passions kiss.
Don't take me to the bedroom
to conform in cotton sheets
as beds are made for comfort
and not for what I seek.

These walls are made for leaning,
and the table aims to please,
this carpet made for placing
stinging burns on hands and knees.
Or take me to the garden
make me scream unto the sun
and roll me round in morning dew
until the deed is done.

Take note of these instructions
and my sweet spot you will find
You've followed them a thousand times,
though only in my mind.