i think i fell
more in love
with the person
i made up
in my head
than the person
sitting right
in front of me.

they say
your first love hurts
but so does
your second
your third
your fourth

your last
when youre lying
on the floor
with cuts
deeper than the
first one.

He doesn’t write poems but you hope he loves you like you love poems one you hope he see you like a symphony, like a sculpture, like paint or clay, like something he can get his hands on. you hope hes painting you in colors that dont even exist just so he can give them a name. you hope he see you like every sunset he has ever missed. you dont understand the way he thinks but you hope he thinks of you often.. i hope you think of me as art something not  known in your mind but something so grand in mine , your  mind consumed of hip hop mine consumed of ideological things , It's easy to like how his voice is unique in the most uncomfortable way possible or how everything is uncomfortable to me his kiss was of gold Staining my neck with the mark  of innocence lost , of course lost far before he was in the picture , forever is a big word and love is a long time Lets write ourselves a poem I lose myself in words  , often more often then anyone wants I don't understand the word ‘love’ because when I was 13 years old I was forced to believe in it as people you learn to trust ******* in the most literal sense but in you I see colors ive never seen before something that makes me happy yet so ******* sad to know I have emotions left when ive tried and tried to just not feel anymore  everyone always talks about people leaving, but it seems like I'm the one who leaves with an inability to handle disappointment but with you I see something far more different

How ironic is it the songs we fell in love with each other to now cause me to hurriedly switch the station in hopes of forgetting you? The chorus brings me back to the first time we kissed and it no longer causes my heart to flutter, instead my lungs fill with smoke and my fingertips burn, as if I've been touching too many stars but I know better because I haven't felt your skin in months, because you were the sun that made my whole world brighter. I can't listen to my favorite songs anymore because I remember how much you hated them and I remember you fell for the music you listened to almost as hard as I fell for you. I am turning the radio on full blast, listening to a song I can't remember the words to in hopes of stopping myself from trying to bring myself back to old times because I know that no matter how hard I try, I will never again experience the pleasure of hearing my name stumble carelessly past your lips. My hands won't shake when I hear your laughter because she's the one making you laugh now.

I loved you once,
Although I never had you.
I suppose that's why I wanted you.
As I fly over the Rockies, I can't help but wonder what mountain you and your board caressed.
I saw you there last week in photos.
I know your love for flying with the snow.
As I look down over the land the topography brings me back to our conversation,
You know the one we had in the aisle of best buy in front of the speakers.
I was on my hands and knees and you were looking down at me.
Oh how your gaze would melt my heart.
Those eyes that seethed into my soul with understanding and mutual oldness.
I told you about the topography of the land and its similarity to the structure in our own bodies.
The rivers are our veins, the water our blood.
We find these veins in leaves, in intricate patterns in the mountains, in sediment run off and in lightening.
I tried to make you see what I see,
That we are not separate from nature, but in fact we are nature in a complex and beautiful form.
Intelligent and loving.
I thought I could make you happy,
But you didn't agree.
I'm still so sorry that you never had me.

      L.Cole

Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life

Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses

Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of

Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime

What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!

So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship

Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt  
That I had left in the Kans grasses