theres something about your first love
something you will never be able to let go of
youre always going to love that person, always going to want them
theyre always going to mean something to you and
theyre always going to wake you up at 3am from a nightmare
because you were dreaming about them
dreaming about the person you let slip from your fingers
and losing that person was the worst thing you could have ever done
and you regret it every day
well that probably explains why im always waking up in the middle of the night screaming and choking on seawater
[you are my favorite nightmare]
because you reminded me of the ocean
even though your eyes are brown
i can get lost in you forever
floating in the middle of the sea (you)
and i wouldnt mind drowning in that sea because
that would mean id get to spend the rest of my life with you
id get to spend the rest of my life getting lost in your eyes
that remind me of the ocean even though they are brown
[you drive me crazy]
and thats why i always get the sudden urge to swim out to sea
and stay there forever floating and
listening to the waves youve created
but the gentle waves
the ones that i love
the ones that i believed were your way of telling me you loved me
[do you still love me?]
now i understand that the reason there was a hurricane in my heart
named after you
its because i broke yours, isnt it?
and that was your way of hurting me back, wasnt it?
[i never stopped loving you]

The comic convention
has cardboard cutouts of
all of the main characters of
Harry Potter.

Harry,
Ron,
Hermione,
etc.
All motionless in a river of people,
glossy but worn down,
bathed in cold white halogen.

And one by one,
the cosplayers—
the Harrys
Rons
Hermiones,
etc.

Have their pictures taken
with the cutouts,
one cardboard cutout cut out
and replaced with a real human being.

Being human, we
crave companionship,
fear solitude,
crave solitude,
fear companionship.

We try to avoid becoming cardboard
cutouts of ourselves, but sometimes
a retreat into inanimacy
is what the animus needs.

The cosplayers continue to shuffle forward in line
each waiting to pose for a selfie.  Each
politely smiling at the living Harry Potter characters around them,

but not striking up a conversation.

I swear
Sometimes
I am
Just drawing
Or wasting
Away
And I breathe
In and a cool
Quiet air enters
My lungs
It smells like
You and tastes
The way summer
Nights feel
After rain
I am breathing
You in daily
With tea in the morning
And heartache
In the afternoon
Incense like
Lighting my senses
To the smell of
The love you gave
In darkness

When we are
Fumbling
Through the
Clumsy first
Kiss where
Our lips meet
(And my heart
Is swimming
In fire-
Mentioning it)
The act
Of solemn
Silent
Serenity
That zips
And zooms
And soars up
To space
It doesn't end
And we are
Dancing
Back and forth
Giving and taking
And giving again
Lovely limbo
Of the stars

In your car
Summer breeze
Kisses your
Cheek and
So do I.
I am not thinking
Only being
Feeling
Laughing
Playing
Loving
Living
And all of the
Other -ing's
At once
Because I can
Be everything
I am when you
Are with me-
All at once or
Sleeping in silence
Your heart beat
Keeping time
With the stereo
Post-rain dreams
Moonlit night.

im just a waste of space
with regrets
and no place to stay
my heart shall beat until the end
but i want to be remembered as a friend
keep me in the depths of your heart
never let the memories fall apart
ill see you at the end of time
till then in my heart you're still mine

Young, but so done living
Everyday is just another brick in the wall
Smoke it, drink it, take a look at it
Try me, says the liar
Come on, little fool, don't fall for it when all
your friends are blaring with why not to

-cj

Words drown; a watery vengeance, I'd say
Resuscitate the poet, wring out the lungs
all splattered with ink; paper confetti bloodstains
Save the denied artist, try a little tender humanity, something to quench your thankless thirst

-cj

A sting of wakefulness and
gross masculinity too near.
The preternatural state of half-dream, half-a-wakefulness.

An expensive fan blew through the room
along with the air conditioner
turned on 54.
The room was chilly and a full bed was
packed with three bodies.

A careless sleepiness ascended from the sleepers.
Already awake, sitting upright, and staring
at a wall I wonder on the night before.

Significant wrong has been done in the past 48 hours.
Not to anyone in particular, anyone except the self.

Sometimes
At night
I relive the memories that we shared

and sometimes
Those same memories

Roll down past my eyes
And climb down my cheeks