maybe this is the last poem
i will ever write about you
i have come to the conclusion
that there are two parts of me
both look the same;
dark brown hair, fading eyes
yet on the surface i have discovered
that i do not hate you nor like you
i am indifferent with no feelings towards you
sometimes it feels like i don't even know you
but then the other half of me
in the pits of hell inside of me
in the deep end of my heart
is the person who is madly in love with you
who can't and won't live without you
a disgusting cliche of a boy who longs for you
and my two halfs argue and fight each other
until the moon begins its shift so the sun can rest
i smoke my cigarettes
taking each urge and longing
in the pits of my stomach
and converting them into smoke
i exhale my love for you out of my body
until i'm left with emptiness
this empty creature doesn't write as good poetry
but at least he isn't drowning in the sea of love

i know it's late,
but i have to call you,
just to hear your
velvet voice and rushed breathing.

i know it's late,
but i have to know
what are you doing,
are you sleeping, dreaming
of me?

i know it's late,
but darling, i love you,
and i can't survive
the night without you.

I can't draw or sing
so I hope everyday that
the curves of the words I write,
the rhythm of the syllables I speak,
will be enough for you
to fall in love with me.