you and I are like
the strong minute hand and the fragile second hand
of the old grandfather clock in the library
there’s a harmony and a connection
they belong together
but they’ll never actually be together

you and I are like
two cars on a desolate country road late at night
as they pass each other from opposing directions
for a moment, all they can see are the headlights of the other
blinded from anyone and anything around them
but it doesn't last that way for very long
the journey continues

you and I are like
this movie i saw once with a happy ending
but that movie didn’t last long either
or the hundreds of poems I’ve written about you in my head
that never actually lived to breathe on paper
or the wildflowers in the field that are killed
by the frost every year

when our eyes locked from across the room today
it didn’t last very long
but in a way it did, behind my eyes
inside my mind, I still see you
your eyes looking into mine
and maybe it’ll always be this way
the way the minute hand and the second hand pass each other
without turning around for a second glance
a second chance
and you’ll always pass another car on the road
perhaps the same cars day in and day out
going different directions, suddenly they’re gone
and movies end, words are lost, and the annual freeze is inevitable

and I hope that, eventually
I won’t look at you and search for a second chance
because when it comes to you and I
just like the passing hands of the grandfather clock
goodbye is as inevitable as the death of the wildflowers
and as painful as the headlights in my tired eyes

fantasizing future breaches in this ever-taxing wall
with every thanks due to you, and your cordial way of moving my thoughts
towards you, and upwards into this exotic dream of
clever rhymes and reverie, of fluctuating feelings and wittiness
with the rest of the story remaining untold, prosperity or tragedy
don’t let this breach tear my walls down from the inside out

please.

I hadn't thought about you in such a long time, but today
I saw your name, staring me in the face at the grocery store, cool and suave and confident the way I remember it, I saw you,
standing next to me, staring at the stars, making one of your overused comments about the moon in my hair or the stardust in my eyes, I picked delicate pink flowers from the bush by the science lab, you put them in your pocket, took the picture to memory when your phone camera failed to find me in the dark that night we had to sneak past the library so they wouldn't know
so many things I didn't like about you were thrown into the shadow by your witty personality and adoration of my mind
I called you one night to tell you my mind had changed when it came to the idea of you and I
I could hear you breaking on the other end, that's when something inside of me cracked, but didn't break, not completely, not really
it ended so quickly, left me in a stupor of guilt and regret
I saw you not long after, I wanted to run from you or thank you for saving my life or ignore you completely or hug you the way I used to
but I just kept driving
and that was that
until today when I saw your name, staring me in the face at the grocery store and I wanted to sulk inside or scream at myself or smile in memory or cry at how far apart we've drifted
but I just kept shopping
no longer electric

pacing, pacing, pacing
as if these weathered wood floors were my sanity
a staircase of thought leading to the answers I’m struggling to find
thoughts falling down to join the others on the floor, a river
jumping out of me with every footstep
this afternoon swelling inside and out
making wish upon wish to be somewhere else
to be with someone else
I keep climbing and going nowhere at all
pacing, pacing, pacing

you rub your tired eyes and run your fingers through your frazzled hair
you try not to worry, stumble forward into the sunrise
wanting, wandering, absent, unheeding, bemused, a million miles away

you put on your favorite shoes and drink a sip of vitality
you think less of yourself and more of the day
calloused, obdurate, no room for thoughts, try not to daydream, I dare you

a ghost inside a robot. a drifting soul chained to an anchor.
your body has awoken to do what your mind cannot
and you stumble forward and you keep moving into the sunset
today, today, today, and everyday

took me by surprise today
saw you woven to the crowds of people
lining the street like rusted metal sheet fencing
downcast eyes
a single lemon-yellow flower it blooms
through the gaps to the suffering house down the street
look again, it wasn't you
it wasn't, it wasn't
missing you more than I can admit, decided
to pluck that yellow flower from its stem next time I pass it by
even with a crowd of people watching, won't phase me
maybe, maybe then I can begin to pluck you from my mind, too

open my heart and what will you find
a rugged traveler and a delicate mind
velvet dreams and vanilla mornings
songs of gladness and flowers adorning
wanderlust daydreams and simple poetry
firefly memories and crystal royalty
starlight
melodies
whispers
hopes
fears
tired eyes
impatience
and you

mostly you

berry flavored sunbeams
through the curtains her
thoughts condensed to water
lingering below an
AC unit above rugged, tired
drips to a murky puddle watching
fragile people close their
eyes to open hearts she
didn't move but somehow
snuck over the windowsill clambered
over the bridge with a scraped knee she
went to a meadow valley peppered white
you saw her and you knew.
deep inside a girl buried her
face to a tattered pillow
breathing disheartened, melancholy sighs
watching fireflies in the eyes of someone
far away, it wasn't even there
they weren't real, and she knew.
you pull her close lead her outwards facing
liquid sunshine wandering whispers turn
to knowing, realized it was wrong
this time, same as last
opened her eyes with a heart still open, she sees
berry flavored sunbeams
through the curtains again, this time
she can see what's behind them, too

pulses of voices rumbling in the
corner I sit with half of my heart
hidden beneath my textbooks
piecing bones back together just to
watch them crumble again.
they’re all talking about today
I only want to talk about yesterday and
tomorrow - searching in a place that isn’t real
today is already too full - a cluttered kitchen, an
unmade bed, ***** laundry, new faces
with new names falling like raindrops far away
they kiss the ocean, far from me
and I’m glad, I don’t want those raindrops
I only want you

today in class I peeled back the
corners of my textbook
and drew your name
across the borders
of each page

I went for a walk
in the wildflowers
where waiting sits on
flower petals in a circle
around my thoughts. I
watched birds draw
rings around clouds,
they skimmed the sky in
pigments of springtime the
way the river flows over
speckled earth stepping on
moss-covered rocks like
pillows tiptoeing to the
light on the other side.
and I wait.