She's a floor above me
with other people
laughing and talking about things I know
why can't she know that I know

Nothing has ever hurt more
I can hear the sounds she makes
as she moves around
I want to be the reason for those movements

I love her
But there are a lot of stairs

I'm barely hanging on
Walking the same road every day
But I know when I'll see you
Where I have to go to make you smile

Amidst the faceless masses
that walk past every hour
You shine out like a searchlight
Pointing me to the reason

I'm still here

It had been almost a week now, waiting
Patiently for the generosity
Of some stranger. A sign in front stating
Her case, gazed at with curiosity.
Desperation and hunger setting in,
Her eyes began to wander to store front
Windows across the street, girls not as thin.
Moral conundrums were now not as blunt.
It would be easy, to take a few things;
Nothing extra, only what is needed.
She’d pay it all back once she got her wings,
So she crossed the street, conscious unheeded.
“I have no choice, it’ll just be this once”
She told herself for the twentieth time.

I give up
Every time I see her smile at someone else
When she doesn’t say “hi”
If she doesn’t praise my superiority

She’s a *****, what was I thinking
**** her, she’s not worth it

Then I close my eyes and ignore the real world
My heart and imagination laugh at reason
And I fall back in
I hope she notices me

I could have done more
We could have laughed more
Shared more
Learned more
But its too late now
He slowly left me
While I thought of what else
I could be doing
All I have now is an old hat
Some books
And an empty feeling
As I think about all I missed
And all I’ll never get back
I learned my lesson
A tad too late though
But it won’t happen again
I miss you
See you in a bit.

I hate people
I look at them and I
think about how much
better I am than them.
And then I walk outside
and throw on my face
where I love everyone
and am super nice.
I hate actors

It was still dark outside
When I woke up in the morning,
Still swallowing my pride
while my bunk mate kept on snoring.

When I woke up this morning
I still remembered every line,
while my bunkmate kept on snoring,
softly keeping time.

I still remembered every line
that I threw into her face,
softly keeping time
with my own thoughts of disgrace.

That I threw into her face
those nasty things I said,
with my own thoughts of disgrace,
I crawled out of my bed.

Those nasty things I said,
they haunted me through the night.
I crawled out of my bed
hoping, yearning for some light.

They haunted me through the night,
and, still swallowing my pride,
I went to find her and make things right.
It was still dark outside

Love is an empty noose
Still swaying
I got out
But it almost killed me.
Where’d that stool land
I want back in

It's getting late and this isn't fun.
I'm getting stressed, starting not to care.
3 more hours till the paper is done.

The mindless typing has begun,
My **** glued firmly to the chair,
But it's getting late, and this is not fun.

Hunting for words till the battle's won,
Pulling them right out of thin air.
2 more hours till the paper is done.

Snacks and caffeine? I have a ton,
And I've said all of my prayers.
It's getting really late though and this is seriously not fun.

Pretty soon I will see the Sun
(But the allotted time was not very fair)
1 more hour till the paper is done

Running to class, the race has begun,
Hoping to beat the teacher there.
It's way too early, this is not fun,
1 more minute till the paper is done

He always hated Tuesdays on the train
There was no way he couldn’t steal a glance;
Her image was implanted in his brain,
He felt despair, though he fought for a chance.
Till one morning she caught his wan’dring eye
And moved over to the adjacent seat.
Her hand was moving closer to his thigh;
He thought that his game was almost complete.
He followed her out when the train had stopped,
Dreams of the past week were now coming true
They climbed the stairs while other people shopped
Then alone he rode the train home at two
The young man just had the time of his life
But now thought only of what to tell his wife.

I looked up across the piazza and
saw a girl with ***** blond hair in a brown dress
in the fourth floor window of the blue building,
the one next to the building with the faded painting of the ******
on its facade.

She was looking down at the fountain,
and all of us sitting around it.
I looked down to grab my pen, but when I looked back,
all I could see were the lavender shades in the window,
swaying in the late afternoon breeze.

When I finished scribbling these stanzas, she was back
for a moment, as if to say one final farewell.
But not to me, but the fountain
And everyone else sitting around it.