Whisper nice things in my ears
Make me laugh like
I used to
Because I
Can't take
This pain for
Much longer
It's gripping me
Like a vise
And I can't find
The handle
That loosens it

We are the jagged jigsaw puzzles with the missing pieces
The Barbie dolls that can only see themselves in fun house mirrors
The G.I Joes that only want to wear pink
The puppets that pull against their strings
The dream houses in the ghetto
We are the paper air planes that struggle to fly straight
The deck of cards with the pycho 8s
We are the toys in the box that everybody hates
We slip through the cracks in the careless fingers of young boys and girls
We are the gifts at Christmas that did not make the list
We are the birthday rejects
The easy to forget
The clutter underneath your bed
We are veterans of every garage sale, donation pile, and trash bin
For all you want is to be rid of us
So we'll go
We'll run away to candy land and snort pixie sticks looking for a sugar high
We'll stop comparing ourselves to other toys
We'll laugh with each other
And for the first time in our lives
We'll play.

Sweater weather*
Is
Better weather
And these big glasses
Don't hide much more than eyes
Guess I'm just a hipster.

The bedroom walls don the shadows of the falling snowflakes
Through the window boughs swing heavy with crystals
Shimmering in the muted light of the crescented moon
Tracks of invisible animals impressed into that white
A wind whistling through empty corridors of an abandoned house
With a chandelier twisting in the ecstatic breeze
Flurries whipping frantically through that chilled air
Winter

To the cutie that helped my heart mend
              I hoped we'd be together in the end
                         To hold me at night
                                   And kiss me at mornings first light
                                              But as it would be you're in love with my best friend

we're getting older
too
time is slipping past us
permeating through our bones
making them as fragile as the
peanut brittle my grandmother munches
every Sunday afternoon

Ritualistically
i scan your social media
secretly check up on your well being

i long to savor your skin once again
i want our legs to intermingle
and our hair to tangle
i want sweat coating our bare bodies

i want you
in the simplest ways
i want you
in every crevice of my being