I know you don't look at her.
But I know you can see her.
So tell me again why I shouldn't worry.

4.
I open my Excel spreadsheet
named "GAMEPLAN"
and stare at it.
I am trying to remember
the last time I played
a game
and won.
I cannot.
I close the spreadsheet
and use my arms
to hold myself
together.
I am unsure as to why
I feel compelled to
plan the next decade
of my life
when I've let the past
two decades
pass
me
by.

I don't think I can
Fit more perfectly into
Any other arms

The tension runs
as thick as my blood
... but not yours.

You are no longer
mine. Somewhere
between a touch
and a kiss,
I lost you.

My mistake to
believe that
feelings
could
be
reciprocated.

You're free.

I gave up self-pity
but am still
quite acquainted
with self-loathing.

A morning ritual.

1.
Soft kisses
under the spray
of lukewarm water.
Your hair is wet
but, for once,
your eyes
are dry.

2.
Searching
the pantry for
something that
will fill you up but
will not fill you out.
Settling for a croissant,
acknowledging that it’s
the closest to speaking
French your tongue will
ever come. Chewing
thoroughly, you wonder
if the folds of the pastry
will show through the
folds of your pale skin.

3.
Wanting to learn,
but unsure of
where to
start.
Wanting to forget,
but unsure of
where to
stop.

I am sitting in an empty classroom
wondering
what exactly it is
that makes Fear
such a formidable enemy.

To be afraid
is to be without
Peace.

I am counting
the myriad forms
Fear has taken for me.

As that number
is the number
of times
Peace has been taken from me.

On the mornings I awake empty,
more frequent than few and far between,
I take solace in the supposition
That I have something within me
Worth expending.