Every time he says the
Misconstrued and fragmented
Phrase "Sok"
I hear your voice.
I hear that little girl voice
You would use when you
Were playful and you
Wanted something from me.
You always knew it would work.

The way he kept looking
At me on Friday;
It was the same look you gave
Me on a different Friday
Because I couldn't help
But feel the love in my eyes
That I'm still unable to describe.
You caught me staring
A little too closely and
Had my heart beating
So quickly.
I blush horribly but
You always seemed to be
Able to make me do it.

I notice how that pretty girl
Across the food court from me
Had hair that was purely
Brown with no highlights
And it was perfectly straight
With no wave to it.
She was only pretty in
The way of conformity then.
She didn't have your
Lighter streaks and her
Hair wasn't a mess.
It didn't look almost gray
Under the lights
Of a football stadium.

I can't write the word gray
Without thinking of you.
The first time I wrote it
In this poem, I wrote it
With an A.
You know I spell it with an E.
Unless I'm thinking of you.
Grey seems a little too
Wrong to write now.

He isn't playful enough.
But only in comparison to you.
She isn't pretty enough.
But only when next to your beauty.
No one has the right set of teeth.
No one has the right color eyes.
No one blushes all the time.
No one has the right hand shape.
No one has the right hair.
No one has the right body.
No one has the right soul.
No one has the right mind.

No one but you.

I told you that you would
Always be in my way
They are all flawed
In every way
Because no one has the same set of
Constellations between their bones
That I can call
Some kind of a home.
It will never be a bad thing.
I'm just strung up on the girl
I love.
Because I do.
I love her.
And nothing you can
Say
Or do
Or lock away
Will stop me from
Giving her my heart.

I'm still holding on.

I
TOLD
YOU
IT
WOULD
BE
LIKE
I
DREAMT
HER
AND
WOKE
UP.

I never got the chance
To tell her
That secretly
I call her my angel.
She never did like
Nicknames
But she tolerated
Girlie and baby
Because she loved me.
Angel seemed a little
Too far for us.
But in my head
That was what she was.
She saved me from
The demon my
Mother's many
Marriages had planted.
She made me see light
On my darkest nights
And I let her.
She held me in her arms
And promised to
Protect me and
Guide me when I was lost
As long as I helped her
From time to time.
But even if I didn't
Always know what
To say
She always watched
Over me
And protected me.

So yes,
She was my secret angel.
And one day
I will get the chance
To explain
That to her.

I've never seen a clock in that room
The only way I keep time is the
Clomping of the foot steps
Of a woman-
No, wait, those are a man's-
That passes overhead
Every quarter hour for some reason.
I think those are the steps
Of some kind of politician.
All I know is that it is a man.

I feel the words droll out of my
Mouth and between my teeth.
Hasn't anyone ever heard
What I have to say?
No? Well that's unhealthy.
So I hear my own life
Fill the space between
My corpse and this
Stranger and somehow
I feel a little bit better.

A breath fills me and
My heart is of a normal beat
And it feels like I can walk
Without falling down.
Who knows, maybe I will try
The next time I get off
Of this couch.
I've been killing my feet
By touching the floor
Without the ability to
Really walk and now
I can feel the world open up.

I have had this feeling before
And it would come as fast as
It took my hand to glide
A blade over my skin and
For that same skin to split open.
But it would leave after a second.
Maybe it would last as long
As it took me to clean up the blood.
But it never lasted.
I had to go deeper.
And deeper.
And deeper.
Just to get the same feeling
Twice or three times.
It was never enough.

Walking out of this room is different.
I hear the man's foot steps
For the third, or fourth, time,
Depending on my stability
That day and
My feet hit the floor.
I am walking.
I feel awkward about grabbing
The door handle before the stranger.
But I decide that's okay.
I walk out.
I go home.
And I'm still okay.

"You... Have no idea what to do right now."

"I don't want you to do anything because you feel like you have to for me."

"I love you."

"I hate pickles. And olives. So we are going with the pickle theory instead."

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."

"During connections the other day when you caught me looking at you, I was actually staring."

*that look she gets when I do something wrong, or right, or ****, or she just doesn't know exactly what she wants to say because I do something to her that even I don't understand

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."
I remember the day she first told me that.
And how I couldn't help but smile.
No, this isn't it for us.
One day she will hold my hand again.
And I'll be able to kiss her with people watching.
Who knows, maybe we'll wear white
As our loved ones watch us kiss.

I don't know much.
But I know that this situation
Will not last forever.
And I know we will be together
Again, one day.

"This is just a road block. A delay in success."