I hope tomorrow day,
     you ***** all the words
     you whispered to me
     the night before
     and may your heart
     be filled with definite pain
     for all the things you never did.

I took Billy Collins to lunch with me today.
He kept me company, Horoscopes of the Dead
and new versions of Dante’s hellish sandwich.
My pasta was dry, but I ate it
between stanzas and between pages.
You walked in, backpack and all, at the top
of the stairs. I choked on some graded cheese,
because of the way you looked in your khakis.
I hate the taste of cucumbers but I would have

kissed you anyway. Even though,
I sometimes laugh a little too loud in the mornings
you still make sanctuaries out of my sheets,
covering us in a layer of polka dots,
craving each other’s skin, listening
the lullaby the ruffles of the duvet make.

And even though I sometimes know
that wanting you has its clumsy consequences,
I still lose my breath when you walk up
to the lunch line, or when you grab my face
with both hands, or when you say my name
backwards between sighs. Maybe Billy understands,

and maybe I can just stay a poet. Maybe,
you would look good on me. I’d love
to try you on. But I lost my breath
when you walked in this afternoon.

You told me your favorite color was orange at least three times, you loved everything about it. I never really liked it much, the fruit or the shade it was, it used to give me headaches. You said you loved the way it was part of the sunset, right before the sun hits the horizon and the colors start to blur, you loved the way it was everything all at once, and in my mind I thought, "just like you." I'd get married in an orange dress if I could spend the rest of my life with you, and I know it gives me headaches when I stare at it too long but you're like the orange sunset and I'd stare at you forever if you'd let me.

Crush is a word I’ve never fully grasped,
Crushes are just fleeting brushstrokes across the canvas that we call life,
Because in life, I bet, you’ll remember the one’s you love, over the crushes
But you can be crushed by someone you love, and yet loved by your crush,
Cause you could put, your blood, sweat, tears, heart, soul into someone you love,

But what if they say that it isn’t enough?

That’s when the doubt creeps in,
Through every little crack that you body has,
It slowly moves in like the poison of a snake,
With the sole purpose of breaking you down until you are nothing,

Until you’re just the shell of the person that you once were,
You feel nothing, except pain, and doubt, and you think of every bad scenario that could be occurring, is really happening,
Bridges fall, love fades, but I was always told, that we live and learn,

Life moves on,

People come and go,

And eventually, you meet someone who is willing to **** that poison out,
Someone who tries so hard to bring the life back into you,
Someone who takes the shell you are in, and fills that **** with love,
Someone who will sing with you, laugh with you, cry with you, and dance with you,
Dance with you, like you have cancer, and the cure is to do the jitterbug,
Sing with you, like you have a broken leg, and the only cast, is Michael Jackson,
Laugh with you, like those inside jokes you had in high school, were relief to the common cold,
Cry with you, like the Notebook is your own personal diary,

I’m searching for someone that I can spend eternity with,
But maybe I’m searching too hard,
Maybe they were here all along,