It's true,
the moon - she has kissed me
more times than I can remember.
Me - a little, lost soul in search of light.
She brightened up this soul
with her kisses and care
but wouldn't leave
the sky for me.

My mind,
the largest metropolis I know.
Thoughts of you roam the streets-
our memories are set in concrete.
This city never sleeps,
but with you as
its population,
it knows peace.

By midnight,
I watched you fall
asleep,
as you watched me fall
in love.

She painted her
lips midnight black-
is that a call to love
or a call to arms?

"It’s good to be alone,"
I say to myself
most nights.
But there comes
a point where
the cold gives in to
the warmth,
and god,
does the
loneliness hit.

It's almost midnight-
the car is gaining speed
and we're passing
world after world.
There is no destination, baby,
it's all about the journey
as we fade
into the night.

Treat your mind as if
it were your garden.
Be careful with who you
make memories with so that
you can plant seeds rather
than pollute what is good.
Indeed, memories are forever
and not the people so make sure
you keep out the locust to keep
your garden a pretty place
to return to.

I keep hurting
myself with thoughts
that I may or may not mean.
There's a storm raging
inside my head-
silvery clouds I
cannot tame.

There is so much joy
in the way you smile,
in those eyes and in
the way you see the world.
I could listen to you all day and
every word I will keep in my heart.
You really are a miracle
the way you bless my life with
your words, your smile
and your love.

Why do you
keep hiding from me?
I am you;
I am your reflection.

The page is a mirror
and each word reflects who we are.
These sentences are reflections
of our souls and
it can be euphoric
as it can be painful.

Yes,
I miss you,
but sometimes I
miss myself
too.

I miss just about
everyone I have ever met-
I wonder if any of them
feel the same.

The moon still watches over us
but it doesn’t glow like it used to
It basked you in twilight
reflecting every smile,
every gaze, every hair
and every inch of skin
like a Monet painting
Before my eyes.
But now,
my prized possession,
is missing.
Hung up in
someone else’s museum,
across the world it seems.
Now I cannot paint
without my inspiration,
my muse.
And I can’t bring my fingers
away from your beauty,
trapped behind
twilight glass.

Maybe missing you
isn't such a bad thing.
Missing you reminds me
of all the good times
we shared and
to a time where
we were
real.

Sometimes missing you
hits me like a storm.
Black clouds come without warning,
dampening everything below.
I am left in eternal darkness
that only your light
can restore.

I know a
modern angel
who navigates the skies
with wings of steel
and a heart so real.

Life is a
series of moments
I have to pretend to
feel what I don't feel
in that moment.

When I laugh, I cry,
a gentle reminder of how
I cannot bring moments of joy
to your attention.
To share with you the joy,
the love, the world,
would trump these things combined.
You are not here anymore,
to share what I share,
to love what I love,
to learn what I learn.
I wonder 'what if',
what could have been,
and where we would be now-
perhaps we would be sharing the joys
we experience in this parallel existence.
But you live your own moments of joy now,
and that alone is enough,
to bring me joy.

We shared
brussels sprouts
and a magic like no other-
a magic that I haven't found since.

Monday's here again
and off to work I go to
to do it all again
and countdown
to that next fix.

I know you pretend
that I am the monster so
that you feel less guilty
about how you
treat me.

If not for the you I used to know
I would have thought you
to be a monster.

Why does the moon
always shine so bright
when you know the hangover
is going to be glorious
the next morning?

My fair lady,
when you are ready
to fly to the moon,
I promise
to never let you
out of my
orbit.

Ever since I've met you,
the more time I spend with you,
the more I feel I've become more like you
and I could not be happier.

"You don't seem quite yourself."
you used to say to me.
You never really did understand
that there is more than one
who inhabit this body
and that you only
loved one of them.

Does my cat
still look over you
like I told him to all those years ago?
I made him promise to protect you,
as I wish I could from afar.
But time has a funny way
of changing our lives,
just look at how far we've come!
After all this time and he still follows you,
across the ocean, in winter and in darkness.
Every now and then he tells me of your flourishing
and I could not be any more proud.
One thing I know for certain that
has not changed is my promise to the cat.
To this day he still watches over you,
admires and adores you.
I think he always will.

To move on
is not to find someone new-
to move on
is to have no one
but still love
yourself.

It's true,
muscle memory
is real and this heart
remembers
you.

Won't you be my muse
at least for the night?
I promise to write you-
immortalize you onto the page.
Let your passion inspire me
until our next night,
and then the next.
Let this cycle of passion
never end.

Don’t live for the weekends,
learn to live for yourself.
Don’t write off those feelings off,
learn to be their friends.
Don’t mistake comfort for love,
learn to weld them into one.

My favorite song
is the one you strum
upon my heartstrings-
the one that puts my
demons to sleep
and my heart
to nirvana.

I only know it as a prison,
even if I should not.
It’s cold inside this prison,
the one I call my head.
The warden strolls past the cells,
her smirk as sharp as knives
as she’s only here to punish.
I’ve been locked up
as long as memory itself,
so long that I’ve forgotten
who I was before a prisoner.
I hear the warden snicker
as she walks by.
Sometimes I day dream
about escaping this hell,
and finding the light
I so bitterly crave.
I dream about plotting my revenge,
About striking down the sorrow
and her leaving behind,
locked up and helpless,
and warden of nothing at all.

I left my heart in Belgium
I left it on her bed
I thought it’d fade like autumn
Wither like leaves until dead
She said she’d hold it close
Keep it warm throughout winter
She’d treat it like a rose
And bring it back as warm as fire

With nothing
but you,
my moon-
with nothing but your light
to guide me,
I made my way home
that night.
I cannot imagine
how much darker
it would have been
without you.

My poor heart
It’s seen better days
If only it could restart
And get out of this faze

my poor heart
When will it ever learn?
It isn't all that smart
It cannot help but yearn

My poor heart
it’s getting out of hand
if sorrow was an art
I’d be the best in the land

My poor heart
Just one more beating
I’d fall off the chart
and hide until spring

When was the last
time I felt like myself?
Maybe when I was young
all those years ago.
But those memories are
as distant to the present
as I am to myself now.

I feel it everyday
Tattooed on my brain
It keeps me at bay
Its origins unexplained
It greets me in the morning
It greets me in the midnight blue
Each day, I feel it like a sting
Each day, I know my shame is true

Never forget this heart beats for you,
that I need you to remember me.  
Know you are ever-present in my sky
for you are the only star I see,
whether it be sunshine or twilight.
You are the song of birds in that sky
and I hope the song will never end.

You planted your seeds
in my heart,
long ago.
What do I have to show for it?
A heart full of sunflowers.
Darling,
you are my spring.

No one likes a mystery-
we hate being left in the dark.
To not know is to suffer
night after night.
What a cruel fate
to be void of
clarity.

Like a sunflower,
I follow you
through this world,
only sleeping when you're
out of sight.

I’m thinking about making another world  
to a world where my sun meets another sky.
Where your hands rest in mine
and I see your smile,
glowing as bright as my sun.
It was in this world
where I learned to adore you.
You were the light in my life,
the warmth in my soul,
the twilight every night.
the sun in my sky

If you left,
the sun would still shine,
but I would rather have you
and the rain any day.

I am yours,
forever,
never forget that.
We are blood, we are one,
and my heart will keep that promise.
And this distance is but a mirage,
a temporary illusion that
dissolves in our memories together.  
This heart still beats for you,
uninterruptedly
and always,
my sun,
never forget that.

Sometimes
I find myself
rewriting poems
Changing all the words
except for
your name

Who knew this city of music
would change our lives forever?
Two strangers, one night,
two hearts, one bottle.
Whether it has left us better off-
well, I'm still trying to figure that out
and I'm sure you are too.

Nothing blooms in nature
all year long,
so why should you
expect yourself
to do so?

Sometimes stars explode
and leave behind the most
beautiful nebulae in the universe-
but that is one in a billion.
Somehow you create a nebula
with every touch,
and every word.
So what does that make you?