ten words
I simply can't
   escape you
but do I want to?

haiku
you caress my mind
delicately with soft words
    I miss your hands more

10 words
difficult to imagine
your grace and charm
wasted
               on Texas.

haiku
chairs and warm coffee
I sit obsessed with letters
your envelope, brown

10 words
I want you
to move back.
Home- be with me

haiku
I can't really press
you will make your own choices
But I stay hopeful.

10 words
maybe
someday
soon, you
will come back around this direction.

haiku*
confession of mine
I dream of your voice and hands
startled, awaken.


I've said some things
to you, in the past
in that space/time
     continuum that

have whipped me into shape

            why I thought
I could do better than
                               you

I have no idea


but I hope you dance
                    more now

      and I hope you
never lost your sweet
                            smile

Because when I can't
   sleep,      I
throw the blankets off of me,
and I think hard- imagining
a perfect relationship

                      and realize
that perfection does not exist

      but I always
think,
                     "I got pretty
close to perfect
             with you."

I have not written
                     anything worthwhile
in months
                   other than the words
I send you,    in bleached white
                                         envelopes

and even though, poetry is somewhat
                                                         absent,


you   are    not.


                  and you are a wonderful
                                      replacement


but now I realize -
                                 I can have both.


Because sweet sweet,
                               you are poetry

you live in my chest and you

ignite me, a catalyst for

      these words-         a place
for them to grow

                      you allow me to be
                        me.
and you do this very simply-

by loving what I do. You

think I'm so talented, but I know

that some of it is just a
self-fulfilling prophecy.

                     You tell me
             I write beautifully -
      that you appreciate my poems.



Can't you see?
                           That's why  I

                               write them.

Can't you see?
                          You are
                                     my poetry.

i don´t really know what i want. i have been with so many boys, with so many personalities, i got stuck in so many smiles, and i can´t understand why i'm always so alone. i don't know what i'm searching for, it seems like no one is good enough for me, i feel like i could never be happy with anyone, even if this person loves me and everything but i can't stand with someone for so long and i feel like i am the problem and i sort of am. i don't know what i need, i am walking for a long and dark highway where i can't find nothing but myself, and i don't know where i want to get. i am so confused about me, it seems like i don't even know myself. i look at the mirror i don't have any problems with what i see superficially, but when i look inside of me i see absolutely nothing, i don't know if i am happy or sad, i feel like i don´t know myself. i feel like i'm not being true with people, i feel like i've been drowing into a deep sea where  the water is so black i can't see where i am, i don't know if i will breath again an in this kind of situation, no one can help me. how could anyone understand me when i don't? i live so lost inside my way that i can't even say what i want my future to be, i don't have expectations about me and nothing can change that, i have always been a confused girl, since i was a kid, even when i was a kid i could see my future in a mist where i didn't know what i was going to turn out to be. i am walking ahead but i don't know if what i want is there, i feel like at anytime i can just regret everything i've been doing and just walk back and maybe turn to right or left. i don't know where i'm going to take myself but i am not expecting nothing and i'm not sticking out with anyone because i don't think anyone can handle my inconstant way without getting hurt.

i would see you in the bed, with the blanket tucked underneath your big feet
which would probably be hanging off the bed
because you're so tall.

hair smooshed up against a pillow,
                             naked under the sheets.

you make little sound
                         other than your slow inhale and exhale
sleep suits you wonderfully



and i would take off my cardigan
then my shirt
then my skirt and tights
then my socks
then my bra
then my underwear
and for a few seconds, i would be very cold
              
        but then, i would peel back the sea of blankets surrounding you

and feel the warmth being thrown into the universe by your skin
i would
                   i would kiss your shoulder

pour myself into the space between your arm and your waist

                   and nestle in deep, breathing in your scent
pulling the ocean back over us,
     not giving you a chance to shudder at the cold.

you are

musky and soft, the scent of a log cabin in the woods
                        with bread baking inside

you are warm enough to bake me.

                        and your warmth
fills me up

like a cup of love

that you will pour for me in the morning

The sun cheerfully rises every morning
As does my hope
Coffee flavored with a hint of ambition spiked in the liquid caramel drizzle
The curtains are drawn back
Just like my despair
Hidden beneath all of my "to-do's" and "do-later's"
A cluttered mess I hope to never sift through
Three missed called from an old enemy Depression and I'm too busy to ever call back
I crave my quotidian omelet like I crave a fulfilled life
Inside, surprises delight my enchanted taste buds
And my appetite for being alive is heightened with the spices electrifying their energetic flavors
Caffeine sparking my newfound devotion to activity and business to leave no room in my schedule for sadness

But as the sun sets every evening
My hope and beliefs are suddenly invisible in the vacantly somber sky
The stars shine like my thoughts
Ricocheting ideas in the back of my mind
Inching their way forward like the caterpillar in the cage
As the darkness sets in, my eyes adjust in a timely matter
A form of classical conditioning I picked up on early in my life
My irises only responding to the anchors holding me down
I vent to the moon all night about my confusion and unhappiness
And it laughs at my tears, begging for me to "wait and see" when the sun comes up
But I hone in on the negativity surrounding me like the pictures of him and the music of the crooks in the night
We aren't all bad people for feeling this way
To choose a side is to choose night or day
To choose a connotation for my life
My autonomic response is negative

Night and day are merely metaphors for life
And every aspect I experience on a daily basis
It's enough insanity to drive my car off the cliff at night
Only to rise to the top and reverse it all in the morning
Waiting around to make your own sunshine in the world of darkness is complex and seemingly impossible
To fall to an impasse or to rise against?
Ask me in the afternoon how I feel
And I may end up letting you know
I am a night owl
No matter how hard it hurts me

I can't recall
The writing on the wall
It wasn't me who put it there

Our time went fast
It wasn't meant to last
It disappeared I don't know where

You came to me
Asked me to set you free
Knowing I would because I care

Cut it in half
Love is a photograph
A painful memory to share

r ~ 26Jan14