how lucky they were
to have been loved by you

yes, they walked away

But people can only love others
as deeply and as they love themselves

look how bravely
fiercely
you love others

what does that say about you?

you are the love

I love you.

You'd probably say,

“Don’t”.

But you’re gone

and my love

is all I have left of you.

So,

I love you.

I saw your face today
for the first time in 2 years

the lights in my brain that spell out
your name lit for the first time in 1 year

so now I'm writing a poem
for the first time in 8 months

because your eyes reminded me
that love does not live within the construct of time

and the matches you left lie dormant
in my mind until your memory sparks the flame

and I lose all train of thought as I drift into
the hypnotic peace of warmth, crackle and flicker

until the sticks turn to ash and smoke
and I transport back to the cold and dark that is your absence

happy birthday
I hope you're happy

and thank you for every spark you lit in me
and for every spark you will light in me

every December 13th

When my mother dies

I'll get a tattoo
not in memory of her
but in memory of her
hatred for tattoos

           I don't know

what the tattoo will be
I'll decide when I get to the parlor
what it is isn't the point
the point is

          how I'll live

will be up to me.
I'm not sure how I'll feel
but I do know I'll have the freedom
to chose who I'll be


          without her.

it's a lazy morning

light peak a boos with
cracks in the curtains
warmth seeps through the walls
every ray of sun kisses
every particle of earth

my senses react kindly
to a crisp salt breeze
that has dropped by
like an old friend i haven't seen
but certainly have missed


i watch the tide
waltzing with the sand
back and forth
give, take

i'm intruding on the intimacy
but i can't look away
the waves rock my mind
into a trance so deep
i have the most absurd thought

maybe, i am okay

i like informality

beer straight outta the bottle
pizza for breakfast
wearing a shirt 3 times
before washing it

doing dishes by hand
reading old birthday cards  
stayin up til 2
even though i have to be up at 8

bonfires
backroads
gettin lost on the way to a bonfire
because i took a backroad

going to a bar
on a tuesday night
and kissin a stranger
because i'm drunk
and lonely
and through the years i've aquired a taste
for whiskey on lips.

and.. wasn't that always the point?

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.