bittersweet storms
ocean blue tears
at least now
you and me
are equal

Thats the thing about poetry,
you think im talking about a
broken heart,
when really,
Im talking about a broken
world.

Like two waves out of phase
We annihilate each other.
Each destroying the dreams
Of the other,
Validating our deepest fears.
We tremble at the prospect
At facing life alone.
One chooses denial.
The other distraction.

She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

I like
being alone
but not
feeling alone-
is there a word for that?

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Temporary solutions, life long problems.
Predetermined conclusions, evolutionary regression.

I’m not who you think
No, not who you see
Now that there’s your problem
You assume who is me

Though you don’t understand
You could at least try
Try and reach your hand
Across this large divide

I’ll reach my hand out too
To make you understand
Me and my goals,
Exactly who I am