I could write you a thousand poems
and send you every single one.
But it doesn't mean a thing
if you give them over to your flaming heart.

From ashes my words mean nothing.

That's the problem with words.
They are leaky jars you can't plug up.
I fill them with warmth, and regret, and love.
But by the time you unscrew the lid
only drops of what was meant to be remain.

Or maybe you just won't listen.
Maybe we're just talked to death.
Maybe our words have been used too many times.
Maybe we just can't be friends.

But until the day my words take flight
I'll keep writing poems to you.
Filling them up and up again
until they start to finally break through.

Faint and shaking,
yawns turned to retching.
Ready to lie,
but nobody asks.

My stomach is screaming,
but my mouth barely breathes.
I say that I'm trying,
we all know I'm not.

I'd rather be sick.
****** up.
Dying.

I'd rather wilt,
and that's the saddest part.

Today I remembered the weekend we made cupcakes. Batter dotted our skin, and we kissed it off each others faces.

I remember falling asleep on your basement couch, curled against your beating chest. We watched movies the way a nicotine addict smoked cigarettes. Our relationship a reflection of blue-light on our faces.

I wish we'd been as innocent as the cartoons we watched in my bedroom. Instead we crumbled like corporations in Fight Club. The irony is a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

All for nothing I fell asleep in my hospital bed. Clinging to thoughts of you to send me to dreamland, until the day I found, that I'm much more prone to nightmares.

It was then I realized our love story was a tragedy. That maybe all love stories were.

If I fall asleep tonight,
never to wake up.
I'll dream of the brightest light,
and you're unending love.
My ears will ring with laughter,
the air filled with white.
Our families merged together,
and your hand grasped in mine.

If I were to close my eyes,
and take my final breath.
My thoughts would be of blue skies,
and the heart beat in your chest.
Of a growing stomach to rest my hand,
with gleeful kicking feet.
And your courage there to help me stand,
when I fear I am too weak.

If you were to ask me,
what my fondest memory would be.
I'd have to tell you simply,
it was one I'd yet to see.
So if I died today,
I'd miss an awful lot.
Like our wedding, and our baby.
Like the house we'll fill with love.

Dedicated to Sean Rogers.

Silence lingers in crisp autumn air
as my feet rebound off concrete.
The uphill journey is traveled alone,
except for fellow early birds
and rare squirrels skittering across my path.
Questioning, I think, if I am threat enough
to keep them from their hunt for breakfast.

Sunlight fights its way through leaves
to flicker across my sleepy eyes.
As if the morning itself is trying to
jump start my system.
Wake me up for the long day ahead.

Finding my favorite perch
at the top of the hill,
I sit to watch campus slowly come to life.
Starting with a squirrel
and his newly found peach treasure,
and ending with the faces
of my unknown classmates.

This is Western, at 8 a.m.

Dirt, the dust on your
shoes, your pointed boots
that pierce the skin as you
trample over everyone you
meet, this is what I'm
worth to you?

It's certainly how you
treat me. Like a scratch
on your peripheral, just
waiting to be buffed out.
Wiped away without
a second thought. Not
even a hint of regret harbored
in your unforgiving eyes.

What did I do this
time? To upset the almighty king.
How did I breach your
throne? Yesterday we shared
the feast, today I'm left
without a drop of water.
Nothing to quench
my thirst for answers,
for answers to your
endless puzzles.

What do I need to do,
to make myself exist to you?

Love is fragile.
It spins, a plane of glass,
on the pin point of a sowing needle.
Tilting, and twirling, and wobbling.
Unsure of where it will crash,
or if it will crash at all.

My love for you is ever-turning.
It shimmers with a beauty free of cracks.
My love for you is constantly skipping.
A pieced-together, scarred shard.

Love has many faces.
Like masks in a grand theatre show.
Waiting behind the closed curtain,
ready to break free for life's ******.

Our love is deep and wide.
A fire that fills my soul and strokes my womb.
Our love is steady and gentle.
A calming wind that comforts my back.

You can't understand,
why our love is so different.
You can't understand,
why my heart lies romantically with another.

He will always be my one.
Our futures are entangled with one another.
I wish you would see that.
Understand my love for you will never fail,
Just because we're not together,
doesn't mean you're not my friend.