skies, that are the color
of the water left behind,
after doing the dishes.

clouds, that are so hope-
lessly pathetic. they hang
there; kinda doing their own
thing.

kisses, that are so full of
passion, and fill the space
of a thousand words.
no grief. just understanding.
understanding that makes your
lips sore.

raincoats, that look poetic.
unbuttoned, and collars flapping
limply. rainy days do no justice.
red raincoats, and dreams of
naughtiness.

cigarettes, smoked to the end.
an orange flame, in the darkness.
leaning against the wall; a careful
posture that's been practiced, and
eventually mastered.

roses, with thorns cut off
with a pair of kitchen scissors.
shaking hands, and nervous smiles.

poetry written on napkins, delivered
with blatant awkwardness. a messy scrawl
with black biro; words that say much more
than a mouth could.

I lost you in one night.
I lost myself over a year.
I can’t find the solace I had,
In being alone,
Without being sad.
It’s a feeling of melancholy,
When it used to be tranquil
For you, I acted in sheer folly,
Now I don’t know the walls that surround me.

Pity a man in familiar places who yet feels like a stranger.