I'm sorry you had to steal
what was already freely given.
I hope your heart never burns
like mine did the day I wrote that.
I give to you freely
what you honestly deserve,
that is a second chance,
and a word of advice.
Give from yourself,
no gift can ever be poorly graded.

Lofty

Aimlessly floating
Destination unknown

Inspiration escaping grasp
Silver lining lost
Pages left unturned

Cloudy is the day
Restless is the night
Left to recklessly dream
Within a thoughtless mind

Sleep is the only seclusion
For dreaming will not cease
Oh, such a keen villain
She is waiting so silently
Mouth watering; ready to strike

You are not broken.
That term describes shattered glass
That term describes electronics that don’t work.
It doesn’t describe humans.
It doesn’t describe feelings.
It is not an excuse for anger, and spite.
It is not an excuse for raised voices and tears.
Stop searching for sorrow because that’s all you know.
Search for a light in the sky.
Follow it.
Search for companionship in humanity.
Accompany it.
Search for love in hate.
Remember it.
The sadness you feel is not permanent.
Depression is not a way of life.
It is your responsibility to find strength in dusty corners and foggy windows.
You are not empty.
You are filled with organs that work just perfectly for the sole purpose of giving you another day.
Do not take that for granted.
Do not wallow in anger because this is hard.
Do not give up.
You are worth much more than that knife in your hand
You are worth much more than that noose around your neck.
This universe is large
But you are not small
Rid your vocabulary of excuses
Start speaking the language of heartbeats and galaxies
Because they are important
As are you.
You are not broken.
You are not empty.
You are not the sum of two syllable words.
You are a heart. Filled to the brim.
If only you'd learn how to use it.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

When we reunite
It feels like I am looking through glass
A solid pane crystallized by weeks of separation.

I am terrified
That the minutes and hours we spent apart
And the distance that blocked our paths
May have severed our friendship completely.

After all
I am used to people leaving.
It is as familiar as the crickets that sing me to sleep
Or the canaries that sing me to wake
Though not quite as delicate and beautiful.

But it is her
My best friend
The one who loved me at a time when I didn't think anyone could
The one who had any choice of companions but chose me
The one who understands what I say...and what I don't say
The one who can ramble on for hours but instantly fall silent if I ever need to speak
The one who doesn't have to use words to promise that I will never be alone.

Can distance really break us?

I reach for her hands
My fingertips a whisper away from hers
As they touch
I find my answer.

“No.”
The barrier between us shatters.

And I realize that I am looking not through a window
But at a mirror.

Do you ever feel
Like the words are stuck,
So much you want to say?
But you allowed someone
To break the connection
Between your soul and fingers?
Do you ever feel
So pushed and pulled
By other's emotions
You forget which ones
Are truly your own?
Are you so compelled
To give and give to others
You whither in the drought
That's left behind?
Boundaries, boundaries are
So hard for me to find.
They're invisible laser beams
Protecting a fine jewel.
I can't see them.
I clumsily make my way through.
I allow others to determine my path.
Where is the strength
I felt two years ago?
Will it ever return?
Until then, I swing from here to there,
Tripping, slipping along the way.
Searching for the strength I knew
Before my world was turned upside-down.

In that book
which is
My memory . . .
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words . . .
Here begins a new life

This is not a love poem,
I don't even know your name.
You might as well  be a figment
of my overactive brain.
I don't know where you're going
when I pass you on the stairs.
But I know there isn't any place
I'd rather be than there.
You have great taste in music
Yeah, you're really good at art.
Although I do not know you,
You've stolen all my heart.
And there is only one thing
That I know to be true;
You will never notice me,
the way I notice you.