I want that real type love.

I want that text message right after
we hang up type love.

I want that sitting on the couch, but not saying
anything, but wouldn’t rather be anywhere else
type love.

I want that never decide what to eat for dinner
because we both want to pick the other’s favorite
type love.

I want that meet up for lunch even when
I only have seven minutes type love--
and then I’m late to work because it
takes at least seven minutes just to say
goodbye type love.

I want that get good news or bad news
or any news and call her immediately
just because I finally have an excuse to hear
her voice type love.

I want that wake up after she’s gone
and panic because she’s not the
first thing I see type love.



I want that start writing songs and poems
and letters, but give up because you don’t
want to spend time away from her writing
type love.

I want that scouring the app store
over and over looking for more ways
to talk to her type love.

I want that kiss her like you’ll
never see her again just because
you’re going to the bathroom type
love.

I want that lost in her eyes only
to find myself choosing to stay
lost type love.

I want that call her up and realize
while it’s ringing I have nothing to say
say, but keep ringing just to hear
her say hello type love.

And I want to find it with you.

Don't love me to love me.
Love me to never lose me.

Hold me to never watch me go
and kiss me to never say goodbye.

Keep me only yours
*and I will keep you only mine.

it's good to know
that you give me respect
that my feelings matter?
not even a spec
i moved away
and now i'm left in the dust
it's good to know that i was just a product
of your lust
i didn't really matter
but that's what you led me to believe
i see what you did there
she's just a replacement for me
because i was convenient
because i was there
and now that i'm gone you don't care
so you move on to the next girl
who happens to be my friend
let's see how this story unfolds
but for you and i this is the end
apparently it was over as soon as i left
but you didn't have the ***** to tell me
i won't allow any time theft
you wasted my time
and i can't get that back
i'll forgive you of your crime
and handle this with grace
I wonder if the next time you see me
if you'll be able to look me in the face.

Our love was like those cigarettes you smoked,
so hot it can put a hole in your heart,
the smoke fills our veins and we began to choke,
and the cigarette died before the fire could start.

I am the poem
I refuse to write.

My skin has formed itself
as sedimented book pages,
quietly injecting
our unspoken metaphors
into my bloodstream
of Murakami, of Plath,
of everything that hurt too much
to even whisper to my typewriter.

I am a poet,
and I will type you
into the night sky.