I write you
all these poems
wanting to give them all
to you.
But I hold them back
and keep them
for the time being
because you are not ready.

But sometimes I wonder,
do you secretly write
songs about me
the way I not-so-secretly write
poems about you?

Hey darling
Don't you know I'm a diary?
I keep track of dates
And events
And words spoken
And promises given.
I catalogue them neatly
Inside my heart
And pull them out
Every now and then
"Remember when you said
You will never leave?
Where are you now?"
Just to remind you
And myself
Not all promises
Are realized
Not all words
Are real
Not all significant events
Remain significant.

And not everything I remember
Will remain unforgotten.
You forgot.
You forget all the time.

What you're asking me now
Is to go and forget
Act like it didn't happen

Don't be hurt
Don't be sad
Don't be heartbroken
Don't be mad

We tried but it didn't work
I can forgive
But wanting me to forget
Makes me ask
How?

Walk out of my life
Without a second glance
From the beginning
Was there ever really a chance?

You toyed with my heart
I was an experiment
It wasn't love for you
I was just convenience

Your hands are ink
Staining all that you touch with your singular finger print
We all get lost.
I get lost,
In it's ridges and complexities
Perpetually held in wondrous confusion
You are black coffee
Pumping into all of my veins,
Alive
Like a rush of oxygen to my blood
You are my siren
Luring me to the edge
I see the parts of me you tore apart glistening just below,
But I can't resist
All of your music
Makes my memories of pain
Nothing more than a light breeze
Barely rustling strands of hair
You are a white sun I can't help but stare at
Even as I go blind
While I am a candle
Dull and lifeless
In the presence of your intensity
You are an unruly sea
Your magnitude uneffected
By my timid presence
I love you for all the reasons you hurt me.

Hello...
It's been a long time
Since we last talked on the phone.
And it feels like our friendship
Hangs on a thread
And I don't like this at all.

Ring... Ring... Ring...
Click.
You used to answer at third ring.
Sometimes you'll even
Pick up before that first
Riiing...
Now I am afraid to call you
On my lonely walk home
Because, I know you knew
My fear of rejection
And lately
You've been rejecting my calls.

But I miss your voice
And those late night calls
And not feeling so lonely
While walking home
Because we share a virtual reality:
A third space for just you and me
On the phone
And we don't have that
Anymore.
What's wrong?