fold your soul into tiny little pieces and slip yourself into my mailbox; i'll be surprised because the mail never comes on Sundays, but like every other Sunday, i get anxious and go check the box for anything, on the walk there i realize it's still Sunday for another 22 hours and the mail won't come till tomorrow. I'll know we were meant to be if you've come early and waited for a while.

i didn't keep track of the day i count down until i get to see you because then i would spoil the surprise of seeing your eyes rest upon mine and that vision is permanently glued to my subconscious so i guess it's never a surprise when i see your eyes and i will remember them forever even when my conscious forgets them for a while

if i'm around to watch
our sun die
and our moon be eaten
take our old photos
scatter them across Saturn's rings
so i can fly down
from my theater in heaven
and remember

I used to be able to look
at people and feel their
soulful juices
escape their pores
but now it's like
i'm looking
at a million rocks
with beautiful faces
pre-planned conversations
nothing is different
anymore

You strut around
with your head held
at a dangerously high level
and its getting fatter
by the second
i wonder when
you'll pop

there are no holes in my mind
there are small dents
in my words and feelings
time won't be able to heal them
because they're not broken
just slightly forgotten
in my conscious  
yet if you look
into my subconscious
you'll see all the skyscrapers
that aren't visible to me
so please tell me
if i'm as beautiful as
the alphabet formed
into worthy poetry