The words don’t flow as freely from me these days.
I stare out the opened window, the sun burns my eyes, and I wonder if Seattle and I are suffering from the same drought.

when i see you
i see trees
because of all the paper
you’ve caused to be wasted
when i hear your voice
i hear the scratching of a pen
and i think of all the ink
that’s been spilled in your honor
when i think of you
i think of a ******* bin
full of notebooks
with all the poems
you’ll never read
about the first time i saw you
and i tried to capture your face on paper
about the first time i heard your voice
and i wasted ink trying to describe it
about how i think of you
and i still fill up notebooks
with poems you’ll never read.

pulling apart this forget-me-not
petal by petal i say
“he loves me, he loves me not”
on the last petal i ask,
“does he love me?” he does not.

my throat swells like the ocean
tides of tears and salty sea spray
with the pressure of waves
my eyes well until filled to the brink
they leak streams of sadness
cascading down my face

i live my life in a glass case
only remembering when people get close enough to see
the cracks they inadvertently make while trying to get to know me
the glue isn’t holding together like i’d hoped…
it’s going to break soon - my protective wall
what use to save me now might hurt me,
lying shattered at my feet
they always saw through me anyways.

i like to eat my thoughts
filling my stomach so it’s full with words
until it talks and says the stuff i will not
sugar coating my feelings to make them easy to digest
but the sweetness goes away leaving a bad taste and regret

life threw me lemons
and i took them appreciatively
with good intentions
i saved them and kept them fresh
but when it came time to make lemonade
i found my pitcher cracked
my sugar had all been given away
and everyone was craving apple juice