forgotten ghosts
flutter around
in the background
of crowded rooms

dead or alive
neither would change much

but there's another
a lost
forgotten ghost
just like you
searching
hoping
to be found

and maybe
through the crowd
above all the empty laughter
and meaningless conversation
you'll catch their empty eyes
and see a light

crowded rooms
are a lot
like a lost and found

Seeking a gentleman who gets lost in thoughts
Feels everything and holds onto nothing.
Bachelor must tolerate banjos, books, and bare-feet.
A writer is preferred, but not exclusively.
I'm seeking a companion who loves tea and coffee in the afternoons
Must be willing to gamble with the suggested shows on netflix
And suggested artists on pandora.
Bonus points if music moves him in directions he didn't know existed.
Seeking a gentleman whose heart is made entirely of love and passion
With a reasonable head
And an unapologetic twinkle in his eyes.
I warn you that I love sunburns and tank-tops
Rain makes me sad, and I own a blue Snuggie named Ralf.
I laugh too loud at lame jokes about muffins and bars
Cry desperately in movies
And am driven to push boundaries.
***** makes me loose
I'm terrified of fourteen-year-old girls and spiders.
And I consider 90 degrees to be jacket weather.
I'm seeking a gentleman with an empty hand and a full heart
That I can love with all that I have
Laugh with, cry with, dream with.
You can find me in the words on this page.
I'll be waiting.

Is there something you forgot?
I’m still sitting by the building with the gold pillars on top
Is there something you forgot?
I’m still breathing and therefore I still have a shot

Some beat around the bush
Others dive right in
You’ll never know
How it feels to be in my skin

Is there something you forgot?
I’m sitting on the beach with a gun and a six-pack on top
Is there something you forgot?
The devil exists so heaven won’t rot

But the past isn’t passing by fast enough
And the future waits but only in handcuffs
And how can you blame all the sinners who sin
You’ll never know how it feels to be in my skin

Is there something you forgot?
I’m sitting in my room with no ceiling on top
Is there something you forgot?
Thunderstorms can make you mourn only if you get caught

Some beat the disease
Others dive right in
Others teach
That no one can win

And if you feel wild and empty, tame but too full
You’ve got the bath, the ocean, or the swimming pool
So stick your head under
So stick your head under
So stick your head under

I thought for maybe a fleeting day that I liked you.
I knew it would never work.
You and me.
Me and you.
It's just not possible.
I'm nothing compared to you.

Your talent flies to the stars above,
While I sit on the grass at night and gaze in wonder.
Your passion for life shines like the sun,
While I dance in the warm light laughing with joy.

I do not love you, or even like you more than I show.
It's the thought of you that makes me smile.
It's the thought of you that makes me wonder how you are doing each day.
It's the thought of you- nothing more- that makes me want to be your friend.

I hero worship you.
I need to stop.
You are human like me.
Nothing more.
And you should be nothing more.
You are my brother that I look up to,
That I secretly admire from afar.
I am a small child in need of guidance,
A lost heart searching for a close friend,
But you cannot be that person.
You have your friends,
And I mine.
Even if we meet tomorrow,
We'll be friendly but nothing more.

Admitting I hero worship you is uncomfortable.
Convicting myself for being weak enough to do so hurts.
Convincing myself love is not an option for me is a battle.
Punishing myself for liking someone is unbearable.

I cannot love.
I must not love.
I am not capable of love.
And if I do love,
I would be better off dead than with a broken heart.
It already is fragile as glass and as worthless as fools gold from the first time I liked someone.
Again, it was the thought of him,
Hero worship.
I barely survived that.

I must never love again.

when i was seven
i asked my mother if all dogs went to heaven
because i wanted to be sure that
i’d see old Buddy up in the clouds
once he’d passed on

she told me that i would
she said in fact
all dogs do go to heaven
but my mother had a
penchant for canines
so i secretly wondered
whether or not that was true

then i asked her if my friend Adam would be there too
since he was Jewish and Jews aren’t allowed
to go to heaven

for this had left me so confused
how could god
let dogs into heaven
but abandon all
my friends

she told me in no uncertain terms that
there was only one way
one truth and
one life
and that one way
one truth
one life came through Christ

which was funny
considering Jesus
was Jewish too

though i’ve never smoked a cigarette
i’ve always loved the smell of tobacco.

it reminds me of shows in seedy concert halls
and the gum my father chewed to get sober

minty-fresh nicorette replacing the scent
of the wine that imbued his every breath.

i recall my grandpa, the way he sat on the porch, surrounded
by nana’s garden, listening to the songs of birds

the stub of his last cigarette, poised between frail fingers.
as it withered, he withered with it.

their walls stained yellow from the nicotine
like some vintage sepia photograph.

through synesthetic memories, i can taste the
way cigarette smoke wafted through the summer air when

my friends and i sat on our back porch, reminiscing,
nostalgia suffocating, tightening its grip like a vise about our windpipes.

i’ve never even smoked a cigarette
but they always remind me of who i used to be

before i lost what was left of my innocence.