I made a friend today
He isn't real, you see
But he's a very good friend
The best friend you could need

My new friend is quite sweet
You see, we went for a walk
And we had a fine afternoon
He was easy to talk to

Though I feel I must admit
And I'm really quite embarrassed
That on our first day of meeting
I wept to my friend, on the path in the forest

I bore my soul to him, my new daydream friend,
(Now the salts of my tears are on his make-believe sleeves)
And I asked him, if it wasn't too much trouble,
"Keep my soul? Would you, please?"

He has it now,
Safe in his invisible hand
He doesn't seem to mind
He's a very good friend

Sitting at home
I missed you today
Haven't seen you around lately
Are you sure everything's okay?
You finally call,
tell me the news,
break down in tears
what was I meant to do?
Finally hang up
after you're long gone
I'm still put out of words to say
I guess it was all wrong.

A sadness in my heart tonight
must be told, then dim that light.
To never see its face again,
and feel the pain that eats within.

A tragedy befell, you see,
and stormy nights still torture me.
She fell and died while in my keep,
and now it haunts my every sleep.

Her face so blank and eyes opaque,
my heart fell hard, and then to ache.
No turning back what time hath wrought,
my constant conscience battles fought.

A fear of storms was Mollie's fate,
the night was dark, the hour late.
As thunder rumbled in her chest,
and her heart pounded in her breast.

To run and hide, but never from
the storm that was about to come.
She climbed atop a place to see,
what made this horror, what could it be.

But leashes length, a noose had made.
Fell to her death, no more afraid.
I found her hanging from the chair,
part of my soul still hanging there.

For simple errors can take a life,
trip up the stairs, slip of the knife.
I put the wrong leash on that night,
it strangled her, I took her life.


*Forgive me my fellow poets for this unintentionally dark poem. The tragedy happened a year ago and I am still trying to find some closure. Mollie was a little mixed dog that I was fostering for a local shelter. She was kind and playful, but deathly afraid of storms

i wake up with dried tears on the side of my face

i went to sleep smiling,
i thought
i dreamt of you,
as i remember

but i woke up with dried tears on the side of my face

perhaps my eyes see something
that my brain has not yet processed

they see your eyes trail off
when I'm enthused about my day
they see the way your body
is always slightly turned away

my brain gushes about the
sweet text you sent last week
and the future that could lie ahead

but my eyes are the realists
and don't ignore what my brain blocks
they notice the other girls
listed in your inbox

and my eyes know that
they've seen this all before
and the visions in my head
don't align with what you have in store

so my brain might be behind
and take some time understand
that these tears i wake up with
are not a deformity of my lacrimal gland

instead they are trying to fill me in
on what i am trying to ignore
and all these poems i waste on you
i will soon learn to deplore

i don't want to wake up with
dried tears on my face anymore.

for my sanity
i've taken on the duty of deleting
your number on my phone-
the last trace of you i have left-
yet it takes me hours in order to
press the button

and now as i'm wide awake
lying in bed at 3 a.m.
i'm sorely wishing i hadn't
pushed you out of my life
in the first place

i want privacy
mornings spent slept in
nights spent alone
in the corner of the book shop
i don't want anyone to understand me


but even more
i long for someone who intrudes
and wonders about me
genuinely interested in my quirks
and thoughts