I’m always falling
and I often end up drained.
I wish instead of tumbling that
I could fly on my paper cranes.

On my paper cranes
I’d fly over cardstock trees,
to land inside an origami garden
and sit on folded peonies.

I’d go on a newspaper sailboat
and float over the tissue sea
to visit cardboard whales
and foam board manatees

I wish that all my troubles,
were made of paper too,
and that I could solve them
by folding a world for you.

Tired,
I crawl into the hole I created,
my resting place.
It is nestled deep in the tundra,
Away from the life I have lived.
Here,
I forget my failures,
that I have burned into the skin
of those I love the most.
Here,
I close my eyes,
and like a needle has been
pushed into my veins,
I forget.

Sometimes
things don't
end with thunderous applause,
or even with a bang.
Because,
Some endings,
aren't proper endings
at all.
Sometimes,
all explanation
is heard in the absence
of words.
But I've learned
to decipher
the silence.

Almost lover,
an odd concept-
one that's not
completely understood
until it hits you.

Even curiouser,
is the almost
almost lover,
a strange in between,
a nerve wracking limbo.

Please don't be
my almost lover.
Please don't let me
***** this up.
Please be mine,
because I want
to be yours,
and I feel you slipping.

"I miss you" you say
"I miss you too," I  tell you
I truly do.
"When are you free?" I ask
"Never, but I'll make time for you," you say
That
Doesn't
Make
Me
Feel
Better
About taking
Your time

I dreamt of you again last night, I've felt
more of your kisses in my dreams than
in real life.
Does that make them any less real?

Forever seems like such a short time,
until you meet someone,
and a forever spent with them,
would be too short.

I'm a lover of music,
I listen to it all-
but my favorite sound
in this entire world
isn't any song or tune,
but rather,
the melody that is your voice

It's an odd place,
Knowing that you're not in love quite yet;
But all the same,
Knowing that one day-
You just might be.