You are the twinkling stars
that light up
my night sky:
constant,
full of hope,
beautiful,



Distant.

Flowers sway in summer’s breeze,
regardless of the coming freeze.
Flowers dance in warm sunlight,
approaching clouds a far off plight.

We must have been flowers
grown with limited hours.
We were happy
until we weren’t.

Stop
trying.
Abscond at long last;
you have already disappeared.

I want to lay beside you,
warmly near,
gently coo into your ear
and hold you
close

I want to trace a finger
down your hips,
press my mouth against your lips
and let it
linger

I want to nibble at your skin,
rose petal soft,
taste of your sweetest sin
and leave you
longing

I want all of this to be,
but
your skin crawls
away from
me

Yearning to be someone's
One
Under all circumstances

Has to be
A tough job and still you
Valiantly commit to
Each and every feeling you have

Against your brain's demands.

Logic has never been known to bring
Order to the longing soul, though it still
Vies for sole control of
Everything that you are,
Lovely little heart--but
You know that.

Liking and loving are not one
In the same,
Though sometimes the brain
Tries to convince the
Lovely little heart otherwise.
Enough is enough.

Hearts feel what they feel.
Eventually, you will find that there is
Always and forever
Room for your lovely little heart
To stay beside my little longing heart.

You are a juice box.
I am the bent straw
That stabs into you
That leaves you
Hollow.

I am a barbed wire fence.
You are the pair of pants
That got snared in my grip
That I ripped
To shreds.

The wind colors your cheeks
the way I only dream of doing.

It dances through your hair
the way I itch to with my fingers.

It whispers lovingly in your ear
the way I hope to one day soon.

It gently caresses your beautiful face
the way my hands were meant to.

If only I could borrow
some of the wind's
luck.

A sigh on my lips,
a crick in my neck,
and still I can’t get
my emotions in check.

A young thudding heart,
a wide winning grin,
and still I can’t say
if you should come in.

I’m feeling the need to go solo.*

Fly free.*
(Please don’t forget me.)

Blue skies.
White clouds.
Yellow sun.

Warm eyes.
Warm smile.
Warm heart.

Charged phone.
Loading app.
Message sent.

Shining eyes.
Happy smile.
Fluttering heart.

Long wait.
Shrugging shoulders.
No response.

Sad eyes.
Wane smile.
Fragile heart.

Phone bleeps.
Short reply.
Wrong response.

Teary eyes.
Missing smile.
Broken heart.

Blue skies.
Empty promise.

White clouds.
Hide feelings.

Yellow sun.
Go away.

My grandma gave me a jingle,
as she liked to say,
and asked if I would like to go shopping with her tomorrow.

She knew I would accept her invitation,
as I've never turned her away before,
so I am sure she was counting on an all day road trip
in her purple minivan.

The next morning,
I sat on my front porch,
hands in pocket,
as I waited not so patiently for her to  arrive.

My feet tapped the cracked cement
as I watched the red ants
scurry around my shoes.
I tried as hard as I could not to squish any.

With every car that happened to turn onto my road,
I lifted my head up,
expecting it to be her.

First a silver car,
then a gold truck.
After that, a blue van.
Where was the purple minivan
with the fire helmet on the tip of the antenna?

Five minutes turned to twenty,
twenty minutes turned to forty five,
forty five minutes turned into two hours.
Still no crunch of the gravel.
Should I give her a call?

I could have used one of the Lifesaver mints
she had in her purse,
in her pockets,
on the floor of her purple minivan.

Mints calmed the nerves and stimulated the brain,
she always told me.
She would say that
with her slow and patient smile
as she unwrapped another mint.

Just as I began to really worry,
my grandpa gave me a jingle
and told me that grandma overshot my house,
accidentally taking her purple minivan
all the way up into the sky
so she could shop with the angels today.

Shattered glass rains
down on my body,
each piece glittering
and shimmering
in the sunlight
like tiny gems meant
for the crown of
a majestic queen.
The chair that I
had thrown lies
limp, unable to
move until I gave
it permission
to do so.
I stood the chair
up and moved
it back into the
dining room,
tucking it safely
away from me
underneath
the table where
it belonged.
I sometimes
wish that I
were that chair.

Bloodshot eyes greet me
when I look into the mirror.
I shuffle my way into the
kitchen, where I smell bacon.
The sizzling popping noise
soothes my half awake mind.
A plate appears in front of me
and two eggs with a side of
bacon peer up at me,
begging to be eaten.
He plops into a chair
beside me with a plate
of his own and we
dig into our breakfast.
I watch him chomp his
greasy bacon and
I smile widely.
Another day
has begun
and I am thankful.

Writing is exhausting.
I feel as if I am scrambling to scratch down
all of my feelings
before they drift away,
leaving myself drained and open for all to see.

Writing is exhilarating.
My fingers cannot move fast enough
as I let emotions spill onto the page,
relieving the building tension
that was once pressing down on my chest.

Writing rescued me.

An ocean of ice once covered my entire surface
Until you came along.
You crash landed into me.
My inner core began to melt.
I am now a molten mass of warmth.

My heart lives dangerously.
It spirals out of control
from time to time.
There is no safety net.

My brain lives chaotically.
It goes off the deep end
from time to time.
There is no organization.

I live with you in my mind.
I can't stop thinking about you
from time to time.
There is nothing but love.

While I sleep
the dreams I keep
will cement you
into my memory.

When you look up at the sky,
the moon herself blushes,
for the light in your eyes
shines brighter than hers.

The adrenaline is pumping
through my veins
at critical levels.
I thought my heart had wings;
it soared so high.
It skipped one beat,
two beats,
three.
It did a jig
and danced right out of my chest.
You caught it.
I looked down at my heart.
It was beating happily
in your hands.
I suddenly realized
that I was holding your heart
and it was joyously keeping time
to the beat of my heart.
I feared that I would drop it
or squeeze it
or harm it
in any way
and I wondered
is this what love really is?

If you called my name, I'd come.
If you shouted help, I'd run.
But when I shout help instead,
you move as if your feet are lead.
Move, trick.

You and I
were meant to be.
You're not blind,
but you can't see
that we could be so much more.
Take a chance,
walk through that door.
Take the leap, trust me.
You and I
were meant to be.

Laying in the grass,
our eyes searching the sky
for answers to the question
that lies between us.

Almost touching
Not quite,
but I can feel your warmth.

Fingers itching,
begging
to reach out
and grasp yours,
if only for a moment.