I never thought that I'd be the one
To finally make you cry.

I swear I always swore to you,
That I would never be that type.

I want to know why, how, and when,
But I can't. So I sit, and then,
I begin to wonder, to think about,
All that's within me, then I shout.
I yell and scream to the sky,
Wondering, always wondering why,
This gift I have is too a curse.
Like water that could end my thirst,
It flows, just beyond reach.
But never nearer. I beseech:
Let this sweet torture end,
Let me paddle around the bend,
If I cannot leave this lot behind,
I fear, no happiness will I find.
In sad solitude I will remain,
Never to be joyful again,
Never to see a kind, smiling face,
Never to know love's sweet grace,
I will lay stricken, on the border,
Between lines of battlefield disorder.
On opposing sides, my curse and my gift,
One and the same, creating a rift.
A chasm into which I will fall,
Where people will look down in awe,
Where they will see me, broken and cold,
Where my heart will remain, until I am old.
They will place a plaque, at the edge of my grave:
Here lies he, who was made a slave.
A slave to that which was a gift and a curse,
He left himself behind, and put her first.
Just beyond reach, she danced and lured,
And though she knew his heart was skewered,
She left him to die in this chasm of pain,
Never to know true love again.

This sunlight has traveled ninety-three million miles just to glow golden in your hair. There is not a more beautiful place it could have landed.

“It really is,” I whispered, “It really is a beautiful world."


     “This really doesn’t feel safe,” Jamie said, her voice holding just a hint of fear. She was probably right. By anyone’s standards, this was straight up stupid, and here I had convinced her to come along with me.
     “Nah it’s totally fine. I wouldn’t do anything to put you in too much danger.” I said this without a hint of doubt in my voice, confident as usual. I had to keep the fearless and confident image or she might change her mind. I hoped the risk would be worth it in the end, but I couldn’t really be sure. How could I know unless I tried? If I didn’t try, I would just be left wondering how great it might have been.
     “We are really freaking high.” This time Jamie said it deadpan, more of an emotionless observation than anything else. Again, she was right. I looked down the long white ladder past her. It was probably 80 yards to the ground from where we were. Above us was another 20 yards of ladder, leading up to a narrow platform. We were climbing a water tower. The platform above us circled around the tower just below where it began to bulge outward into a spherical shape at the top. There was no safety cage around us, nothing to break our fall except for the climbing harnesses we wore. Each harness had two straps, each with a clip on the end. One clip would be snapped onto the first rung, then the next clip to the second, and so forth until we reached the top. It wasn’t fool proof but it was better than nothing.
     “But seriously my hands are getting tired. How much further is it?” Jamie was great, but complaining was one of her most annoying flaws. Most people wouldn’t have made it this far anyway. The fact that she had was just a testament to the athleticism and strength she had underneath all that complaining.
     “Close. Maybe fifty rungs. Hang on for another five minutes and we can sit down and rest.” Yet again she was right. My hands and forearms were burning like crazy. I had long ago learned that climbing with gloves on a slick painted surface was asking for trouble, so today we had no protection from the narrow rungs pressing into our skin.
     For the next fifty rungs, the only sound I could hear above my heavy breathing was the clink and snap as each clip was removed and replaced. It was surprisingly calm this evening, the sun not quite finished slipping below the horizon. It was late August, so the temperature was still somewhere in the 70s this time of day. The backpack on my back seemed to get heavier and heavier the higher we went. I could feel the straps digging into my shoulders and trying to tip me over backwards. This bag was far too big for what I was doing, but I needed some way to bring a sleeping bag and blanket up. Finally, my hand left the last rung and found the top of the steel platform. I unclipped from the last rung and snapped on to the hand rail that went around the outside edge before I reached down to take Jamie’s hand.
     “Thank you sir,” she said, “I see chivalry is not dead.” Her hand brushed a few loose strands of long blonde hair out of her face as she stood upright next to me, looking out over the edge.
     “Ok, you were right. This is worth it.” She said in a matter of fact tone. I laughed softly.
     “This isn’t actually what we came for,” I said with a grin, “We aren’t done climbing yet. I just didn’t think you would actually come if I told you how far we were going. But the view is really nice here.”
     “You can’t be serious. I didn’t see anything going up any further.” She sounded rather incredulous.
     “We have to follow this platform around to the other side. There is a set of stairs going up to the very top. At least it isn’t another ladder.” I tried to sound confident, like it had already been decided that we would go on, but I couldn’t stop a tiny bit of a pleading tone from leaking in. I knew there was a small chance that she would want to stop here, but I also knew that going just a bit further would be completely worth it. I had scoped this tower out from the ground several times, using my trusty binoculars that I bargained for at a neighbor’s yard sale. When I discovered the stairs going up past the platform, I used an online satellite map to take a peek at the very top of the tower. From what I had been able to tell, at the very top there was a completely level platform, twelve to fifteen feet in diameter, with a secure looking rail around it. Amazing what a person can find online.
     My hope was to spend the night on that platform, hence the sleeping bag and blanket in my massive backpack. Tonight was supposed to be the brightest and most active meteor shower of the year in North America and the weather had decided to be kind to us star gazers, leaving a clear and cloudless sky for the evening. It would be perfect. Perfect if Jamie would go along with it, that is.
     “You are the worst kind of person,” she said. She wasn’t facing me so I couldn’t really tell how she felt about it. Finally she turned around and rolled her eyes. “Ohhhkaaaay. Let’s go. We’ve already gone this far.” She was used to situations like this. I was the one who always wanted to push the limits, go a little further, risk just a bit more, and she was the one who always asked me to reconsider and then went along with it anyway. I always felt bad for a little while, but I got over it pretty quick. It’s not like she didn’t know me well.
     “You are the best kind of person,” I said with a wink and a grin, “But let’s rest for a bit. My arms are tired now.” We sat down and I took off my backpack, setting it on the platform beside me, digging through a side pocket. I pulled out two bottles of water and a box of Poptarts.
     “Poptart?” I offered, “Snack of champions. All the professional water tower climbers eat them I heard.”
     “How are you not fat,” she replied, taking a delicious cherry snack from the silver wrapper. It wasn’t a question really, it was more a running joke between her and I about how much I should actually weigh. She’d usually joke that one day all the junk I eat would hit me at once and I would wake up weighing 400 pounds. Even though she joked, she wasn’t beyond being bitter about my eating habits since she worked hard to keep a perfect physique.
     Next I pulled out two plain white pieces of paper and handed one to her. I began folding mine delicately into the perfect paper airplane, using the flat section of the water tower for some of the more delicate creases.
     “I don’t know why I hang out with you. You are literally so freaking weird. Like who the hell would bring paper up the side of a water tower just to make a paper airplane.” She laughed even as she criticized. I knew she didn’t really mind. She had on multiple occasions told me that my “quirkiness” as she put it definitely made me more interesting to be around. I guess I was a little odd, but I didn’t really think that was a bad thing. I did what I thought to be amusing or entertaining. It wasn’t my fault the rest of the world didn’t seem to feel quite the same way about life.
     “In fifty years don’t you want to be able to set your grandchild on your lap and tell them all about the time you tossed a paper airplane off the side of a water tower? Grandkids don’t want to hear boring stories. I would know. I was a grandkid once.” Jamie just shook her head with a grin and started folding her airplane. Mine was finished and ready to be launched into the great unknown.
     “This is Air Farce One to ground station Loser, requesting permission to take off.” I did my best Top Gun impression, trying to remember how cool Tom Cruise sounded when he said it.
     “This is ground station Awesome to Air Farce One. Ground station Loser could not be located but we can go ahead and give you permission to launch. Have a nice flight.” Jamie still had at least a little bit of a child left in her. I tossed my paper airplane over the side, watching it glide several hundred yards before landing in the low branches of a tree. Mission complete.
     “What perfect throwing form you have,” Jamie said sarcastically, "You were probably one of those nerds who just made paper airplanes in class all day as a kid." Ouch. Yea, that had been me. Jamie wound up and threw her airplane with all her strength. She had made more of a dart than a glider and it flew fast, eventually landing in a tree considerably further than mine had.
     “You win this round,” I said with mock disgust, only barely able to hide a smile, “Let’s keep going.” I removed my clips from the rail and began walking along the platform. The bulb at the top of the tower was much bigger than it looked from the ground. I could just imagine the thousands of gallons of water above and beside me.
     Eventually we reached the stairs. It was nice of the designers to have taken pity on the poor inspectors who had to climb this far up. A ladder going around the outside of the bulb would have been terrifying. The stairs curling around the side felt much more secure. Reaching the top, there was a narrow platform leading from the edge of the bulb where the stairs ended to the flat space in the center of the tower. There was only a handrail on the left side so Jamie and I were sure to snap our harnesses on. The sun had almost fully set by now, the last tendrils of light just enough to see by as we made our way to the center.
     “Okay this is cool. You know what we should have done? We totally should have brought an air mattress up here and slept or something,” Jamie thought aloud. “I’ll bet the stars look amazing from here. Oh and look you can already see the city lights over there!” I loved seeing her excited. She would take one hand and play with her hair while the other would point at things. It was kind of weird when I thought about it, how she always pointed at things when she was excited. But that was just Jamie being Jamie.
     “You read my mind.” I pulled the sleeping bag and blanket out of the backpack and laid them on the flat steel. I probably should have realized how cold that steel was going to be. Oh well.
     “We are so in sync right now,” Jamie laughed. “This is awesome. You were right.”
     “Wait so what did you think was in the bag?” I asked. She hadn’t mentioned it before and I never said anything about it.
     “Honestly I thought it was a parachute or some **** and you were going to try jumping off the edge,” she laughed, “I would have tried to stop you but I decided I really won’t feel guilty when you die doing something stupid.”
     “Brilliant!” I exclaimed, “I am so going to try that next time!” I wouldn’t really. I liked doing risky things, but I wasn’t suicidal. We spent the next few minutes getting the sleeping bag and blanket situated. I loved the fact that Jamie could be spontaneous sometimes and that she was totally okay with just camping out on top of a random water tower on a Wednesday night. How many people in the world would have been okay with that? I was lucky to have her as a friend.
     We had everything settled by the time darkness fell completely. The climbing harnesses had been stuffed into the backpack and the backpack had been strapped to the railing on the side of the platform. With the sleeping bag laid completely open, there was still at least five or six feet of open platform on all sides of us. It felt secure enough.
     “I also forgot to mention that tonight is a huge meteor shower.” Jamie and I were on our backs, looking up at the infinite blackness.
     “I love shooting stars.” She said softly. Her eyes were wide and I could see her making fake mustaches out of her hair. She had kicked off her shoes and socks and was wiggling her toes in the night air. There was only a sliver of moon, just bright enough that I could see the glow of it on her cheeks.
     “It makes me feel small,” Jamie whispered, “I feel like that should bother me, feeling small, but it doesn’t. It’s weird because it’s almost comforting to me. Here I am, this tiny speck of dust, floating around on a larger speck of dust in the middle of infinity.” She wasn’t usually one to enjoy philosophy, but on the rare occasions she spoke like that, her point of view and opinions usually inspired me. She had a beautiful mind. She just didn’t often care to open up and share it like this.
“It makes me feel like it can’t all be an accident. Some people say that we got here through a series of random and fortunate events, that there is no great plan or design. But I just don’t see how that can be. How can mere chance create something like this? Of all the possibilities, of the infinite infinite possibilities, I just can’t believe that people, that you and I or anyone else were put here by accident. I don’t think that life could be an accident.” She spoke softly the whole time. Her voice never raised or quickened. Words seemed to flow forth effortlessly, as if this all were prepared and practiced. She was able to speak without doubt or hesitation, with such certainty that even the greatest cynic might have stopped to listen.
     She continued on, weaving words as though spells, playing ideas as though harp strings. She talked about her life, telling me things she never had before, teaching me things even I didn’t know. Jamie didn’t seem to be Jamie for the next while. Instead, she seemed to have become a font of wisdom, ideas, and genius. At least, that is how I saw her. She was able to take a single idea, and examine it from all perspectives. It was as though she held it in her palm, slowly rotating it to peer closer. She made connections that I had never thought of, inspiring me to think even deeper, loving the moment. All the while she lay there, watching the stars, wiggling her toes, and making pretend mustaches out of that long blonde hair. Eventually, she turned silent.
     “But what if it is an accident?” I said. My voice was unusually soft. “What if it was all an accident? What if there is no plan, no fate, and no reason for anything? What if there is no beginning or end and we are just insignificant bits of space dust? The idea of it not being an accident just seems so conveniently comforting, almost too convenient.” Jamie was silent after I finished. My heart was beating fast and my mind was alive. I didn’t feel close to being tired.
     “So what if it is,” she said eventually, “What difference does it make? Even if it is all an accident. Even if there is no meaning to life at all, it seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here we are, you and I, able to share this with each other. That seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here is this great big world, all the adventure, all the excitement, and all the love that it is filled with. That seems like a beautiful accident to me. Here is this infinitely huge sky, filled with stars that are incomprehensibly far away. If this is all an accident, it is the most beautiful I can imagine.” She paused for a while longer. “I feel that whatever you believe, it doesn’t really matter. Perhaps you believe there is a supreme design and plan, or maybe you believe that life is an accident filled with chaos. It doesn’t matter. We all live in the same world. We all see the same beautiful sights, we are surrounded by it. It is only our perception of it that differs. I choose to believe that such an incredibly beautiful world cannot be an accident.”
     I was quiet for a long time. Jamie had, for all intents and purposes, rocked my world. Hers was a perspective I had never thought of before. I, who believed I had thought it through from every angle. I, who believed myself smarter than the world. I realized then, at that moment, laying on the top of a water tower in late August watching a meteor shower, that maybe I was not a genius. Maybe I did not have the world figured out like I had believed. Maybe, just maybe, I was just a cynic; a cynic blinded by the misfortunes I had seen and suffered; a cynic disappointed in a world that had not treated me well.
     Jamie took my hand in hers, interlocking her slender fingers within my larger ones. She turned her head to the side and looked at me, still sporting a fake mustache. The sliver of moon was reflected in her eyes just so that I could not really look into them. Her lips were curled into just the slightes

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for accidentally lying when I said I wanted to be with you.


I think perhaps I fall in love often – I fall hard and fast, without remorse or concern.

I think perhaps I fall out of love often – I grow tired and bored, unexcited and suppressed.

Unfortunately I fall in love before others and I fall out of love before others. I leap into the arms of people who aren’t ready to commit, then walk away just when they are ready to endure.

I hurt people. A lot.

I’m not sure when it started, but its still going on. I can think back on 3, 4, 6 people in the last few years that I have broken it off with after I promised them love. I left without warning, without hesitation. I feel bad about it because I don’t want to hurt people, I don’t want to cause pain, but I feel that letting things fester while I am unhappy in a relationship is worse.

It still hurts. I still watch tears fall. I am still avoided when passing on the sidewalk. I am still badmouthed in fraternity bathrooms and in social media. I watch my best friend and lover become someone who hates me, who wants to cause me pain, who then spreads my secrets and laughs at my failures.

I don’t want to hurt people anymore, so perhaps it is best that I do not date. Perhaps it is best if I never commit or kiss anyone without the careless and superficial setting of a night club dance floor. Perhaps I need to mature and wait until I can find peace and stability, where I won’t switch between adoration and frustration so quickly and suddenly.

My friend might have been right when she said “I don’t think you can be in a relationship right now.”

Maybe I can’t be. Even if I can, maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just accept that I need to wait for life to take its course and should stop trying to capture every shining opportunity that I happen to meet in the library, the pool, a coffee shop, or the gym.

Maybe I should let those opportunities go past and should wait for the ones that come when I am older. Perhaps I should wait for the golden opportunities I pass in the grocery store, at work, in line for the DMV.


Is my maturity the issue? Am I subconsciously not ready to commit myself to someone? Do I have some twisted sadistic sense of humor in which I like tricking people into thinking I love them?

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for accidentally lying when I said I wanted to be with you. I’m sorry for when I made up some ******* excuse about why it wasn’t going to work when the reality is that I was bored and restless.

To you – M, B, L, M, A, and R.  I’m sorry that I am a *******. I’m sorry that the devil has blue eyes.

You are better off without me than you ever would have been with me.

A single crack is all it takes.
A single crack for walls to break.
A simple start to a catastrophic end,
A minor flaw for havoc makes.

So simple, a crack; so simple the wall,
So simple a crack to begin a fall.

I feel alone again.

I don’t know why this feeling grips me sometimes, unexpectedly leaping out at me from empty beds, tables for two with a single chair, solo bench presses, and duets on the radio.

I don’t understand why the people I’m with don’t comfort me, I don’t understand why I imagine isolation. They surround me and hug me and hold my hand, but I still cannot relate – I don’t feel a unity. Their hand in mine is intangible to my mind, an empty promise and unfulfilled expectation.

A depression grips my heart. This is the kind of sadness that comes with disappointment, in knowing that the potential for something brilliant came speeding towards you, slowed down slightly, and then waved as it went on by. My heart was reaching out, hopeful beyond hope despite it all, only to be let down. It gets harder and harder to take a risk – harder and harder to believe in opportunity.

I feel alone again.

I can poor out my thoughts, my worries, my dreams into someone’s hands and feel empty still. I still feel misunderstood and uncared for, alone and isolated. It seems to me a kind of arrogance – how dare I feel alone? How dare I feel a crushing weight or sadness when on paper, outside my mind, my life is a dream? How dare I be ungrateful for what I am?

I struggle to even mention my loneliness. It only finds body in words when spilled into a glass of whiskey and tears. My pain only finds light in ***** soaked voices and in barely literate post-party writings.

I ignore the pain when I am sober. Only then does logic prevail – only then does mind tell my heart to cease its petulant pleads for attention. Only in sobriety does the loneliness find itself shut into a box, a chest, and locked away deep inside. Only in sobriety can I hold it in.

And so, naturally, I do not drink. I don’t like that whiskey gives voice to my thoughts of despair. I don’t like the fact that people can finally see how I feel – I don’t want them to know. Nobody needs to bear the weight of my horror, my sadness, and my doubt. Nobody else needs to hold what is my responsibility and mine alone.

I charge through life, a façade of happiness, never removing my mask. I set myself for the highest aims and the greatest goals that I might forget the pettiness of my heart. I surround myself with those that adore me, friends that would give of themselves for my good. Nobody will suspect me. If, in one of the whiskey nights and champagne mornings, a hint of my mental state should drop, they will look at me. They will wonder how a person with a life such as mine, friends such as mine, a future such as mine could possibly feel alone. Hopefully they will disregard their suspicions and assign guilt to the bottle.

Hopefully they will see me happy and full of life and love.

Hopefully they will witness my charade,

And forego the questioning.

Her eyes they twinkle,
Sparkle and shine.
Dark, light, dark again,
Such perfect design.

Her laugh runs free,
Like a mountain stream,
So smooth and surreal,
As though a dream.

With hair that flows,
Such gentle grace,
It retains its glory,
When out of place.

A smile that shines,
So incredibly bright.
It flashes and grins,
Lighting the night.

Her physical beauty,
Perfection it may be,
Is not the only beauty,
That one can see.

Her heart, her heart.
Words cannot describe.
So cold, so warm,
So many things inside.

So good and so golden,
Such warmth and invitation.
Intricate and delicate,
A web of fascination.

Her inner beauty,
Beyond compare.
Leaves other girls,
With such despair.

They look upon her,
In all her glory,
Crying out,
In all their fury.

But she bears the weight,
With poise and grace.
A perfect woman,
Beyond distaste.

She bends the knee,
Without asking.
Men line up behind her,
Glory basking.

But they in vain,
For her heart lies elsewhere.
I'll never understand,
Just how it got there.

It lies with me,
In my gentle hands.
It warms my soul,
And hears my plans.

How she loves me,
I'll never know.
Perhaps predestined,
From long long ago.

But she is my gift,
All the beauty that I have.
She is my joy,
That which makes me laugh.

I love her dearly,
Moreso than my life.
I love her even more,
Than she loved the knife.

Her scars don't haunt us,
The opposite is true.
The blood she spilled reminds me,
Her strength sees her through.

My heart belongs with her,
Her image fills my dreams.
In my imagination of the future,
She stars in every scene.

She is more than perfection,
Her beauty beyond sublime.
Her heart all I've dreamt of,
I've already given her mine.

Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl. It's easy to like someone from a distance. But when she stopped being this amazing unattainable thing or whatever, and started being, like, just a regular girl with a weird relationship with food and frequent crankiness who's kind of bossy--then I had to basically start liking a whole different person.

                                                   -John Green


I read for hours to find the words,
The ones I required to know.
Ah, at last, she was so right,
Words pulled from my own shadow.

I knew them to be words of truth,
These words I had to find.
She told me I had to read them,
They might bring me peace of mind.

Alas, she was right as always,
I know not how she does.
Plucking at my own heartstrings,
The words told me who I was.

My whispered words fall softly,
Upon downtrodden ears.
Even now I wipe away,
Your quarter crystal tears.

You come to me in the silence,
Your anguish knows no bounds.
I hold you and I love you,
Listen to your tearful sounds.

I run my fingers through your hair,
Tell you it will be alright.
Clutching you tight against me,
As you shiver through the night.

When morning comes I wake you,
Beautiful as you sleep.
I try to imagine the terrors haunting,
While you sink in dreams so deep.

I take your hand and raise you up,
And show you to the sunlight.
I hold you tightly, yet again,
You made it through another night.

I pack you up, gather your things,
The ones left laying by the door.
I whisper gently, yet again,
And pick you back up off the floor.

I can't help but help you,
Your tears scald my heart.
I can't help but hold you,
When you beg me play the part.

---------

So many nights I held your hand,
Trembling but unbroken.
I learned to love you a little more,
With every heartache spoken.

Every time you found affection,
It brought you so much pain.
I died just slightly, every time,
I watched you circle the drain.

Sometimes I spoke harshly,
And let my rage fly loose in ink.
But never did I hate you,
When you pushed me to the brink.

I'm sorry for those days of anger,
I just couldn't take it all.
Just as soon I held you close,
When you would stumble and fall.

It's been five long, painful years,
That I lived and breathed for you.
I'll still hold you, dear Madeline,
Though our time is all but through.

The pain I feel at our parting,
It tears away a part of me.
Now I must trust in you,
As I am forced to set you free.

I hope you can remember the nights,
And live them through with memory.
Remember sunlight and your daisies,
Please, live amongst life's beauty.

--------

My whispered words fell softly,
Upon your delicate ears.
I hope that I served my purpose,
Easing your midnight fears.

I ran my fingers through your hair,
I told you it would be just fine.
Clutching you tight against me,
Your tiny body trembling against mine.

You grew so much in that time,
I hope you now see the beauty of life.
Remember that I will always love you,
Forever my friend, in darkest night.

Haunted by a terror past,
Hope blooms for futures bright.
I whispered words in the silence,
Just so you lived another night.

A toast to you
A toast to me
A toast to the dreams that we can achieve

A toast to stars
A toast to skies
A toast to the moon still bright in our eyes

A toast to the distance
A toast to the calls
A toast to our laughter running down halls

A toast to tequila
A toast to shots
A toast to the nights we together forgot

A toast to libraries
A toast to the nooks
A toast to us hiding deep in the books

A toast to goodnight
A toast to warming
A toast to kisses and tickles all morning

Baby its cold outside,
Lets go turn up the heat.
Maybe kindle some pillows,
Make a fire of your sheets.

Throw on some blankets,
Build up the heat.
There's a hotter side of me,
That I want you to meet.

It might snow or sleet,
A long winter storm,
But tonight I can promise,
I'll be keeping you warm.

“Get that stupid *** grin off your face and kiss me!” And so I did. I leaned in until I was inches from her rosy lips, waiting for her to come the last little distance. She did so readily, with a warmth and a salt taste that I knew I could never forget. Her hand found my knee as I reached around to gently caress the back of her neck, my heart pounding in my chest like waves on the shore.
          We stayed that way for a while, exploring each other, the sun beating down. I could feel it burning my shoulders and back but didn’t care in the least. This was a passionate kiss, not wild, but with the depth and quality that so few have, the feeling that only comes with connection.
          We held the kiss as the waves rocked us, occasionally lapping over the side of the surfboard. With legs hung over the side as we straddled for stability, the salty water kept us plenty cool. It was complete serenity; one of the rare moments when there are no mental distractions and a person can become lost. Despite the perfection of the moment, I couldn’t help myself and the thought of pushing her off the board again made me grin trough the kiss.
          “What’s so funny?” she asked with feigned innocence. I could see the twinkle in those incredibly dark eyes, the little spark that always drew me in and fascinated me. Countless little freckles on her nose were newly accented by sun kissed cheeks, holding a slight rosy glow that was very becoming. My hand had fallen from her neck and I used it to playfully splash a little water on her leg.
          “Oh, nothing,” I said with a sly grin, “I was just, uh, thinking about how beautiful you look right now.” She knew me too well, easily seeing through my fib. Apparently I just couldn’t hide the way I felt from her. She had always told me that she could read secrets in my eyes, big or small, but that was okay with me. I had never needed to hide anything from her.
          “Is that so?” she grinned, with a devious look in her eyes. God I loved that look. She bit her lower lip just slightly and played with a loose tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Then she leaned back on the board with her other hand, watching me. I had seen this so many times before; I knew exactly where it was going.
          “Well, actually I was thinking about pushing you in the water again. But then I remembered we were being nice to each other today.” I said the last bit with a bit of a wink. She had always said she loved it when I winked, so I purposefully used it sparingly. A guy has to have a few tricks of his own, right? She always seemed to have the upper hand on me, no matter what we were doing.
          I think she had me figured out as nobody before ever had. It was nice, to say the least, to have someone whom I had to work to surprise or impress. It kept me interested, kept me challenged, which is exactly what I needed to make me happy. She was a challenge. A beautiful challenge, and I loved it. It was exasperating at times, frustrating to work with, but I knew that in the end I would never have had it any other way. She was perfect as she was.
         A beautiful, dangerous, **** challenge is what was going through my brain as I sat there watching her. She had tanned this summer, her skin taking on a golden tone that made it irresistible to touch. Today she wore my favorite bikini top. It was red and hung down in a small triangle in front of her chest, patterned like a bandanna. Small drops of water still clung to her forehead and chin from the last time we fell off the board. In my mind, a scene of perfection, and she knew exactly what I thought.
          “Well... Maybe I’m not in the mood for you to be nice to me right now,” her voice trailed off as she pulled her feet out of the water and placed them just inside my knees were, to where her toes barely rubbed the inside of my thighs. The movement brought a tingling sensation where we touched and brought my heart to a pounding beat again. She was still leaning back just slightly on one hand, playing with her hair in the other. Her back was arched inward, so that the triangle of bandanna was extremely prominent. I knew what she was doing, but so did she. Her eyes traced up the board from her toes, up my chest, to my eyes. She stopped biting her lip as the devious grin once again took its throne upon her face. **** that grin.
          “Actually, I know I’m not in the mood for you to be nice to me right now.” This time her voice was laced with seduction, barely audible above the waves meeting the shore. She slid her body along the board towards me, her legs underneath my knees, my calves and feet still in the water. My heart was pounding out of my chest at this point, and my breathing was a little heavy. I partially hated that she could do this to me so easily.
          We were very close, her thighs slid just under mine, her toes touching the middle of my back. I lightly rested my hands on her legs, the golden skin feeling like heaven beneath my fingertips. She still had her back arched and she knew ****** well how good she looked as she slid her hands up the outside of my arms and up to my shoulders. She moved those rosy lips towards me once again. ******* she was beautiful. She stopped when her lips were touching my ear. I knew she could feel how tense I was, how fast my heart beat, how electrified I was by her. Then she whispered.
          “Sucker.” And with that she threw her entire weight over the side of the board, her hands and legs dragging me over with her. The salt water rushed up my nose and into my eyes, burning. I surfaced, spluttering, trying to see again to the sound of her laughter. I stood up, the water only a few feet deep out here on the sand bar.
          “**** you **** you **** you!” I did my best to sound angry, but I couldn’t keep myself from smiling through it all. She was still laughing, loving her own joke. I splashed water in her face, still dripping wet.
          “I hate you.” She knew that every time I said it, that I meant the exact opposite.
          “The look on your face as you went over. Oh my god. You totally thought you were going to get some on a surfboard. Oh my, pffft that was funny.” She was still laughing, standing a few feet away, having not defended herself from my frustrated splashes. The look on my face was a mixture of amusement and frustration. I knew she loved the look, it gave her some sort of satisfaction in having gotten the best of me. I watched her walk through the warm water over to where I stood, arms crossed in front of me. She wrapped herself around me, giggling, and reached up to kiss me again.
          She was always a challenge, this girl. Always a beautiful challenge.

I wander nightly and ponder your name, questioning your very existence. I seek the truth and to find nirvana – I need something that will listen.

Curiosity finds a deep morose and excitement runs into doubt, the wandering and pondering has me aching in and out.

My heart yearns to find the truth, but, since when has that really mattered? All my life I’ve ignored my heart with its desires and drives so strong and scattered.

How does a man choose a woman? How does a woman choose a man? What drives this ***** love of chance into something deeper, something planned?

Is there a plan to such romance, is it all just luck? Do we cast a die that decides our future or do we just get married, then ****?

What if I think there is more to it? What if I think there should be some logic involved? My heart is flippant, truant, untrustworthy, so why should I trust its random call?

It seems that if I want love to work, my brain must love you too. It must get rid of the doubts, the questions, the inherent sadness; it must find new topics on which to muse.

When I think of you I shouldn’t feel doubt, no, my mind should be as my heart. It too should feel the driving need, the confidence, the certainty, it too should ache like fire when we part.

Should I accept that I have mixed emotions, that there are parts of me morality calls wrong? Should I pay attention to these traits of mine, the ones that when you beckon, begs me not to follow along?

I hold things inside me which are not pure or beautiful, desires and darkness and twisted wants. These things you cannot satisfy, in fact, you combat them on every front.

Should then I strive to ignore and erase these traits of mine, that some might think impure? Or should I embrace who I fully am, get rid of you, and let these traits endure?

For I do not think both can exist, there is no middle ground or compromise. It is you or them, me or you, I think that I must choose a side.

Never will my faults play with yours, never will my avarice for life hold hands with your purity or self-right. Never will you accept my darkness, never to live with my faults, you could never live any life but yours, that the life of light.

So now the questions ramble on, each an elaboration on a theme. It seems that I must choose soon, I must choose who I will be… I must choose to become you, or choose to stay true to me.

2013/3/18

*This is part of a conversation between me and a girl. We both write poems back and forth to each other. This poem is in response to her asking if I was telling her how I felt about her "between the lines."


The language found between lines,
Is purposely caged within confines.
The tumult found within the head,
Leaves the best left unsaid.

Does it even matter that we see,
The words hidden in each degree?
What good would come if then,
We listened to the words within?

Maybe the best is better left,
Between the lines, thought bereft.
If you wanted to, you could express,
Those three words within your chest.

But how could I come to believe,
That I was not being deceived?
All the evidence poured out over months,
Has left me unsure of all the wants.

Maybe freedom of heart is close,
Maybe it is what I want most.
Even now, as I lie in bed,
I wonder at those, words left unsaid.

If you can decipher such curious rhymes,
And even still read between the lines,
Then you should understand my quandry.
And understand why I don't know if I'm free.

Because sometimes, no matter the rhyme,
There is nothing you can do this time.
Nothing will erase the past,
For me, acceptance will only come last.

If you can't imagine why I hold back,
Then perhaps take a small track.
Imagine it from my point of thought,
And maybe then you'll see why not.

If others read this, they would know me insane.
If they read ours, they would know pain.
If they read yours, they might not see your best,
But what they should see, you're a beautiful mess.

Again, for C

I float away and look to the sky,
Just wondering, wondering why.
I yell aloud all my frustration,
My voice increasing my perturbation.
I think about the doubts inside,
All the feelings I am trying to hide.
I think I might be different than the rest,
Maybe something is different in my chest.
I think that maybe my head is off.
I think maybe I was made too soft.
I stop my yells as I realize,
That the answer is in these starry skies.
Finally I can see,
That it's just me.
Im not special, nothing different at all,
So many others have felt this pall,
Nothing more than another number,
No brighter than any other.
I'm just another star,
Up there where a billion others are.
I'm nothing new.
Nothing more true.
I'm just little old me,
Tossed around on an endless sea.
Floating, sometimes bobbing under,
Feeling the world's endless hunger.
Because I can see every star,
None more than the others are.
Just like me, plain old me,
Just another drop in this endless sea.

I'll give you one last kiss,
But now I must go.
They will come soon,
I don't want you to know.

Your innocence steals me.
I'm leaving in the night.
My goodness remains,
With you in the moonlight.

I change, I revert,
When I cross the threshold.
Back to my ****** business,
I am death to behold.

I've wronged the wrong,
And they want me dead.
They won't stop,
Until I bathe in red.

Yet they don't know,
I am no longer the hunted.
Blood they will get.
Blood is what they wanted.

All my friends,
They're so **** depressed.
And I don't know why,
But it hurts in my chest.

They seem all to have lost,
The lively life that I admired.
They're never in that kind of mood,
The jokes that I so desired.

It seems as though their skies are grey,
While mine are blue and bright.
I smile and laugh and joke and sing,
But they frown in eternal night.

I miss the times when they would laugh,
And love life just as I do.
When their smile could brighten my day,
If I ever struggled through.

But now I seem to be surrounded,
By pessimistic depression.
Sometimes it seems that long ago,
We decided on a different direction.

At times I find it pulling me down,
This constant moody setting.
Sometimes I feel myself too drown,
Trapped within their netting.

I thought I knew their pain and sorrow,
But it seems now that is false.
I thought I'd been there, at that depth,
But mine seems a comparative waltz.

I've been down to the darker pits,
And I've pulled myself back up.
But never did I fall so far,
That I believed in giving up.

So now I stand here by myself,
Often feeling quite alone.
My skies are bright with fluffy clouds,
And it feels just like home.

But I miss my friends, they made it better,
And now I try to compare.
I try to be the cheery beacon,
That can raise them back to air.

I wish that they might talk again,
And find our lively conversation.
I'm once again giving of myself,
In this friendly dedication.

I don't blame them, I'm not mad,
I say it's not their fault.
But I'm finding it hard to find myself,
Under this sad assault.

But because I love them, every one,
I keep my smile overt.
As they say, the brightest smile,
Has felt the deepest hurt.

My only wish that they might find,
Some sort of joy in me.
That they might share my blue skies,
And finally be set free.

Can you hear it coming?
The rhythm of the drumming?
It thunders loud in my ears,
Confirming all my fears.
Realizing my dread,
By morning we will be dead.

It is inescapable,
We are totally incapable,
Of meeting this demand,
This is our final stand.
We have not long left to live,
And only our lives left to give.

So prepare yourselves.
Clear your shelves,
Sweep the floor,
Then file out the door.
Bring nothing along,
But strength and a song.

Straight and steady,
Prepared and ready.
Prostrate on the ground,
Wait, wait, for the ending sound.
Don't hide and don't you run,
This life is nearly done.

I the captain of my soul,
I Shall not wait for the toll.
For I command my ship, it is my own,
Truly mine, and mine alone.

I stand before the massive wheel,
Let life pass beneath my keel.
I need not your wind in my sail,
For I am the captain, I will prevail.


-I read invictus last night and it inspired me to write my own

It's nights like tonight,
When I don't know what to do.
My brain is all jumbled,
With the many thoughts of you.

There lies a question,
And an answer untold.
Either sadness and pain,
Or joy will unfold.

The problem is thus:
It's so right but it's wrong.
It's not what I've hoped,
But desired so long.

She's unlike any other,
Truly among the best.
I can think of nothing,
But her head on my chest.

A mind like an ocean,
Rich and full as the sea.
Her heart like the night sky,
As beautiful as can be.

Words flow from her lips,
Like silken dew drops.
Each something amazing,
With each, my heart stops.

Her eyes are like embers,
With cool, steady flame.
They stand or invite,
With no hint of shame.

Her hair drops like honey,
A gentle flow and cascade.
Not pure or flashy,
None better was made.

Her lips as heavenly,
As the petals of rose.
Of the color and texture,
Where so much of it shows.

Her body is soft,
Like snow in the morning.
So perfect and subtle,
It needs no adorning.

Her style is gentle,
The most perfect blend.
Not shabby nor excessive,
Without need to amend.

She is sublime.
There is no other word.
I can think of no other,
Dictionary proffered.

She is original,
Her own one of a kind.
She is amazing,
Something rare to find.

Finally, she is captivating,
So entrancing to me.
Wherever she is,
That's where I want to be.

But most, above it all,
She is my torturous pain.
The reason I'll be disappointed,
Time and time again.

She can't be what I want,
She just can't reciprocate.
There is nothing I can change,
This is the terrible fate.

I'm destined to love,
Someone who can't be mine.
Fatefully ******,
Can't get her off my mind.

Lie with me,
In two senses.
Lie to ourselves,
Nothing else matters.
Lie to the world,
We aren't ordinary.

Now lie with me,
Your back in the grass,
Feel the earth's breath,
Upon your silken skin.
Feel her subtleties,
Her sophistication,
Her beauty...
Like you.
Lie here with me,
In the moonlight.
Hear my whisper in your ear,
Bask in my  warmth.
Feel the roughness of my fingers,
Entwined in yours,
So delicate and smooth...
Lie with me under heaven's floor.
Stare into the darkness,
Let it take control.
Understand the power around you,
Understand the gentleness beside you.
See the millions of stars,
So far away.
See the moon,
Its glow lights our night.
Just lie here...feel...understand...
Can you tell how small we are?
Does it have a hold on your soul yet?
Are you not overwhelmed!?
Does the power and awe not inspire you to be the best you can be?!
You are a part of this perfect universe!
You are a tiny speck of carbon and perfection...
Now I hope you see,
Feel,
Understand...
That is how I feel inside,
Every moment, of every day.
So tonight,
Lie here beside me.
Feel my strength,
In comparison, weakness,
And feel everything around you.
I can give you no greater gift.
I can express no greater love.

Something there, beneath her skin,
Begged me to come nearer.
I've never been able to quite decide,
What it was that made me want her.

Perhaps it was the way the wind,
Would toy with her golden hair.
The curls and twirls of all her beauty,
Envy not lost on the summer air.

Maybe even it was the sound,
Of her laughter across the room.
So light and lively, full of life,
Never fails to set the mood.

Then again, that flashing smile,
And the way she giggled at me.
It might have been something within,
Always trying to set me free.

I suppose it might have been the hush,
That would take a room by surprise.
People would stop for just a moment,
The moment she stepped inside.

Looking back, I know now,
That I might never know the cause.
For all the kisses spent and smiles lost,
I am glad I knew her for who she was.

I long to look upon your face and feel nothing.

No more emotion, whatever it may be;
I want to be cold again.

I want you to mean nothing to me, nothing at all.

But you do.
You still do.

I still can't see your picture without feeling.

Complaints
Complaints
Why do you complain?
What good, what help, what use are they,
The words you spew and cry?
Why can't you, like everyone else, keep those words inside?
When you moan and groan, pine and whine,
I lose respect, I like you less, your thoughts I now despise.
It isn't cute, it isn't fun, it doesn't make me smile.
Tired of listening to your complaints,
I don't think you're worth my while.

Crystal drops
Of salt and sin,
Dribble down
To trembling chin.

Bluest eyes
Of deepest hue,
Swim in oceans
Deep and true.

Midnight hair
Dark as space,
Hangs all shaken
In your face.

Luscious lips
Full and soft,
Tremble gently
No sound aloft.

Hands clenched
So small and smooth,
In your lap
Unable to move.

You sit alone
Among your fears,
Just letting fall
Your crystal tears.

Rolling meadows drenched in white,
Floating fields of such delight.
Just breath in the sultry air,
Soak it in without a care.

Lots of little children's feet,
Have left the track with printed beat.
Your bare feet, not fleet as those,
Love the dust between your toes.

Drop down now amidst the flowers,
You won't be missed for several hours.
Lie on your back, look to my sky,
Don't you think, don't wonder why.

Pull a daisy from the ground,
Plenty more, all around.
Pluck petals, small and fair,
Watch them drift off through the air.

Hold against your tickled nose,
Scent sweeter than any rose.
Innocent smiles light your face,
Reflecting the beauty in this place.

Petals fallen in your hair,
Fuzzy bees flit through the air.
Butterflies on painted wing,
Float as though on broken string.

High above the clouds pass by,
Imagine shapes, if you try.
The sun beats down on summer skin,
Warming your heart, from within.

Pull more daisies from the land,
Hold them gently in your hand,
Squeeze them softly against your chest,
They won't mind if you rest.

Footsteps raise you from your sleep,
Rising out of dreams so sweet.
But it's alright, smiles crack,
He's holding daisies behind his back.


A girl asked me for a poem about daisies. I complied.

I remember how I nearly died,
With rusty blade into my side.
Warmth of blood upon the skin,
Crack of bone from deep within,
Icy tingle of fingers numb,
Heart unsteady, broken drum.
Vision narrow, unfocused eyes,
Tightened lips repressing cries,
Ears unable to hear a thing,
Stench of sweat, nostrils sting.
Pressure of boot upon my chest,
Enticing tired body to rest.
Eyes slowly, peacefully close,
My soul into the darkness goes.
Darkness.
   Darkness
Darkness
Blinding lights through squinted eyes,
Something in my chest still tries!
Now roaring noise all around,
Ears hearing every sound,
Yells, screams, monitor beeping,
Blood, blood, blood, still seeping!
Fingers, toes all still cold,
Hand searches for something to hold!
Gloved hands send back to gurney,
Forcing me to complete this journey.
Morphine now! Doctors screaming,
But I am already back to dreaming.
Darkness.
   Darkness.
Darkness.
Eyes open to shadowed ceiling,
Someone asks how I'm feeling.
Lips too parched to answer yet,
Side stitched, ribs reset.
Heart strong, steady beat,
Woolen socks scratching feet.
Cheap cotton on finger tips,
Hospital bed, IV drips.
Turning off the light my guest,
Leaves me to my gentle rest.
  Darkness
    Darkness
  Darkness

I have demanded much from life,
Life has answered with the same.
I have shot for highest heights,
I never missed my aim.

I no longer have demands for life,
Instead, I make pleas.
I no longer stand with fists proffered,
I am on my knees.

I only have one request to make,
Greater than all before.
I only have one hope in my chest,
One final ember more.

Love is all I ask for now,
Love is all I need.
Love is all I think about,
Someone beside me.

Forever I may wander lost,
Looking for a sign.
Forever may she come to me,
Forever to be mine.

I have demanded much from life,
Perhaps too much, I see.
Worthiness no longer matters,
Let my love flow free.

I've had it all,
I've lost it all.
I was wrong,
For far too long,
So I had my fall.

I had the car,
I owned a star.
I was king to those around,
Now I'm greeted with no sound,
I'll not make it far.

Alone and cold,
No longer bold.
I'm chilled to the bone,
Suffering alone,
Failing as I'm told.

Night or day,
I sit and pray.
I need something new,
Someone to woo.
Somewhere I can lay.

But I'm gassed,
My time is passed.
Nothing now to chain me down,
Never again to don my crown,
I am free at last.

Do you trust me?
You do? Are you sure?

How unfortunate.

I thought you had better judgement.

Tortured and taunted,
Belittled and haunted,
By dreams long deferred.
Unable to fly,
Wings have died,
An angel, fallen unheard.

She spends her nights,
Under the lights,
Dreaming dreams pre-******.
They scare and remind,
Of pain redefined,
And lend a phantom hand.

She sits and devours,
So many long hours,
Curiously studying the arts.
She thinks she knows,
The highs and lows,
The wretched art of hearts.

Hope resounds,
Dead rebounds,
Filling the void now seen.
With each hit,
Another fit,
Filling the slit between.

Doubts are wrenching,
The metal clenching,
Failing for too long.
It's like dead space,
Switching place,
Between two changing songs.

She acts as though,
She thinks she knows,
The answer and solution.
Time will tell,
Just how well,
She sees through the pollution.

Perhaps one day,
The Sun's rays,
Will fall on her new wings.
One or ten,
Maybe then,
Happiness will ring.

Will flat notes play,
Until that day,
The reopening of the curtain?
The shrinking soul,
The whips and toll,
She must carry the burden.

Clutch and bleed for the driving need,
The bitter, hounding sound.
Pushed harder and farther, to my knees,
Passing the world around.

Zeal and lust are both a must,
Happiness a choice.
Crying, dying, true disgust,
They seek to steal my voice.

Air or water, I cannot falter,
Without either I should fail.
To succeed I need to be my father,
Breathe the need, as was his trail.

I chose to pose questions free ,
How can I grow better?
Pain and fame is all I see,
Easing, ceasing never.

"Hey loverboy," she says. I don't respond.*



A rough draft excerpt from my story, Fictional Truth.



“Hey loverboy,” she says. I don’t respond. I enjoy ignoring her for a moment after I come out of a day dream.

“Hey. Jake. Snap out of it boy. Time to come back to earth,” she says with her usual tone of pleased annoyance. This time I leave the world inside my head and return to reality. Slowly turning my head to the right, I can see those deep blue eyes gazing up. I never get tired of her eyes.

“Come on, you said you’d help me here.”

“Sorry,” I say with a half grin and my best attempt at contrition. I look down to the papers in her lap. Right, math. I was helping her with calculus. She was really very good at math. We were in the same class, but she was two years younger than me after skipping two grades in elementary school.

“This one you just take the derivative of your function and plug in these two values.” I can remember these things effortlessly now, which was a huge accomplishment for someone who doesn't particularly like math.

“See, this is why I keep you around,” she says, those rosy lips that I so adored pulled into a little smirk. She reaches up and kisses me. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me. “You can go back to daydreaming now.” Indeed I do, retreating back to the dreamscape inside my head. This time I think back to when I met Clara.


I had just arrived on campus, a bright eyed college freshman. There I was, lost in a sea of beautiful women. Small private schools had never been kind to me in that regard. Everything on campus was a wonder. Nobody from my high school had come here and I was very much alone but I didn't mind, I had outgrown most of my high school friends long ago. It was long past time for me to expand my horizons.

I found myself standing in front of a massive glass building. I wasn't past checking my reflection in the glass windows. Had to make sure my hair still looked as good as it did when I arrived. Who knew when I might run in to? Opening the doors I caught a waft of the bookstore smell, unlike anything I expected. At home the bookstores were small, with dusty leather covers that begged to be handled and old people that smelled like coffee. This was completely different. The odor of panicked freshman and newly bound textbooks permeated the air. I decided right then I wouldn't be spending much time there.

There was a long line extending towards the back of the building. Not knowing better, I assumed it was the line I was supposed to be in and slowly made my way to the rear. This would take forever. I pulled out my phone and started on another game of Angry Birds. I had been killing evil pigs for almost five minutes when I began to feel like I was being watched. Sure enough I glanced up to see a large pair of deep blue eyes looking at me.

“You know, some psychologists say that technology is making us less social,” said the girl looking up at me. I couldn't respond. She had straight black hair pulled behind her in a long ponytail. She had a small, perfectly formed nose with what seemed like a sea of freckles on it. Even more freckles danced on her cheeks. She was several inches shorter than me, maybe 5’9” and had on tight jean shorts and a black tank top that exposed only the most tantalizing amount of cleavage.

“So I’m just starting to feel a little uncomfortable with you ******* me with your eyes like that,” she said with the smirk on her face that I would soon come to know.

“Sorry,” I said, a tiny grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, “You surprised me a bit.”

“I’m Clara. This is the point in conversation where you tell me your name.” I liked her already. She had confidence and wit that was both abrasive and attractive.

“I’m Jake, pleased to meet you.” ****, I was smooth, like a wagon over rocks. “Are you a freshman too?”

“Yep. Just got here. I don’t think this line is moving.” I really liked the way little dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth even when she frowned slightly.

“It really doesn't seem to be. At least I have pleasant company,” I said. Oh man I was so smooth! I was really proud of myself right there. Flirting was hard with pretty girls, they seemed to throw me off balance.

“Well, that was the least offensive flirting I've heard all day,” she replied. Good gosh this girl was straightforward. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I might not have accepted that.” Cute. Okay, I could work with cute. “So you’re in psychology 1000?” she asked.

“Nope, I took that during high school.” I replied. Why would she ask that?

“Well, you’re standing in the psychology book pickup line.” She said with a slightly puzzled look on her face. I definitely was not in psychology.

“Oh, Psychology! I, uh, I thought you said, uh, philanthropy. Nope, I’m definitely in the right line." Okay, that was a lie and I was at least 100% sure philanthropy was not a class. But hey, I was under pressure. She looked at me like I was slightly on drugs but moved on without hesitation.

We talked about various meaningless things while the line crept closer to the back of the store. The stunningly blue shade of her eyes made it very difficult to focus on conversation. When we got to the pickup window, she paid for her book and stepped to the side, watching me. I decided to bow out of buying a several hundred dollar book just to avoid looking like an idiot. I comforted myself with the fact that she might think it was funny.

“Soooo. I’m not really in philanthropy. Or psychology. I just didn't want to stop talking to you just yet.” I said with a sheepish grin. Luckily for me, she laughed.

“Alright then Mr. Jake, what books do you really need? Maybe we can go stand in line again.” I listed off several books that I needed for classes.

“Calculus. I need that one as well. Come on silly.” She turned her back and started walking. I followed right on her heels, a goofy grin plastered all over my face.

That was my first interaction with Clara. We spent the next two hours gathering all of our books, and at the end I carried her rather large pile back to her dorm room. I was promptly rewarded with her phone number and some cookies that her mom had packed.


“Hey. What about this one?” Clara’s voice comes from beside me. I lean over to look at the paper again.

“This time just take the anti-derivative of cosine and solve for x.”

“Oh right. That's the last one.”

“What do you want to do now?” I ask.

“How about we go to your room and see if we can make your roommate uncomfortable enough to leave?” She says with a mischievous grin, bringing those deep blue eyes nearer to mine. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me.

The tears have started dropping now, each with a silver “plink.”
Ignored too long, sequestered away, eventually rain must fall.
I watch the steady streams grow, finding furrows in your face.
Like farmer’s fields in springtime rain, running warm and raw.
I wish you didn’t hurt so much. I wish that I could ease your pain.
Someday I hope to hold your heart, I hope to wipe your tears away.
It seems to me a tragedy that such beautiful tears should ever fall.
How dare this world bring you to tears, how dare it make you grey.
How dare the silence echo loud, ripping into your warm soul.
I curse the way the doubts surround you, the way they keep out the light.
Horrid dreams of despair and doubt should never bother your heart,
It is obvious that there is no justice, knowing you can’t find peace within the night.
I find anger in my eyes when I think at all that wrongs you,
Dreaming of times when I might find a way to **** the sadness.
To defeat your demons is all I want, I wish to wield the sword.
I want to stand beside you, in battles fought, fending off the madness.
Maybe then you won’t need to cry and I won’t need to wipe your tears.
Maybe then we might be happy, perhaps smiling despite the all.
For now, I will wait, watching your silken silver tears fall down.
I hope you find a peace within yourself, happiness when spring turns to fall.

I write so many stanzas,
They fall right off the page.
Never bothering to read again,
Locked in forgotten cage.

I miss the days when my poems,
Would never go unfinished.
I miss the way you filled them in,
Your genius undiminished.

I loved the way you rhymed the twists,
Such crazy, lovely plots.
You held my sadness to the light,
Adding happy letters and dots.

The way your pen complimented,
And fit perfectly within mine.
Our words always flowed together,
Inspiration almost divine.

You took my broken writings,
Helped me make them something great.
You cheered me on through each line,
Never wanting for debate.
12/26/13


To me you were of magic,
Finishing my incomplete.
I wish you would rhyme for me,
Let our two writings meet.

I wish you would read again,
And find every verse I'm missing.
I wish that you were real,
I might as well, while I'm wishing.

Follow me.
I know where I'm going.
Follow me.
My greatness bestowing.
Follow me.
I can light the way.
Follow me.
I know what to say.
Follow me.
You won't understand.
Follow me.
Just take my hand.
Follow me.
And have not a doubt.
Follow me.
I will lead you out.
Follow me.
Wait where are you going?
Stop, follow me!
What the heck, seriously?
Follow me ******!
Come back!
Alright, alright I'm coming...

"I miss you.”
The sentence seemed to slip out, layered with my pain and sadness and guilt.

~  -  ~  -  ~  -  ~

It was so real, this vision. In a way, I knew it was. I knew that it was only a projection of her conscious being. I knew that she really and truly was dead. But some part of me kept holding onto the hope that there was something I had missed and she would be standing there in front of me when I opened my eyes.

I missed her terribly. I missed her laugh and her tears, her jokes and her cynical sarcasm. I missed the way the corner of her mouth would curl when she was keeping a secret from me. The mornings seemed empty, never quite complete without a text rambling about whatever late night thought she had. The empty pit in my stomach deepened every time I heard her name.

I missed her like I didn't know I could miss someone. She had become such an integral part of my life that I didn't even realize it until she was gone. I imagine it being something like losing a limb. Except she was so much more than just that. To me, she was an arm and a leg, part of my brain, and she was my heart. She had become so much of me, this friend. Part of me had died with her.

I think it was because of the connection we had, the way she had become such a part of me, that I could still talk to her. I could shut my eyes and she would appear there in front of me, in all her beauty and wisdom, just as she was right now. She always had that devilish little curl in her smile that proved she was keeping her secrets.

"What was it like when you died?"

I asked the question without thinking. She had already given so much, I felt bad asking for any more. But I was genuinely curious.

"It was peaceful. I went quietly, you know, never did want to go out in a blaze of action like you do. It was very painless, some sort of cross between slipping over the crest of a roller coaster and falling asleep."

As she spoke, her eyes shifted up and to the left like they always did when she was telling a story. It always seemed as if she was reading her memories from somewhere in the sky.

"What... What came next? Or rather, where are you now?"

For the first time, I felt slightly nervous about knowing the answer to one of my questions.

"Well I'm right here with you silly."

She giggled softly, her incredible laugh. The sound that made men instantly fall head over heals. It was indescribable.

"You know what I mean. Were we right?"

She almost looked solemn for a moment, as though she struggled with something. It was so unlike her, usually calm and certain. The moment of indecision written in her face made my heart beat faster. The corner of her mouth curled up just a bit, and I knew what was coming next.

"I can't tell you that. Some things you must discover for yourself. But you were right not to fear it. We truly are in control of our own destiny."

My mind was racing through all the possibilities. I really wished she could have given me a full truth, but I knew she would have a good reason for not telling me. I saw the moment of indecision again, just before she spoke.

"I can't tell you what came for me, because it can change what will come for you. Whatever we believe comes next, that is what comes. If your heart and soul believe in some form of afterlife, then that is what comes next. If you believe that there is nothing, then there is nothing. I know not what happens then."

How is someone supposed to react to that sort of information? I went with my usual attempt at humor.

"So you're saying I just need to believe that I go to a land of infinite bacon and sports cars."

She giggled again, this time with the knowing look in her eye that I'd only ever seen in her. It was the look that told how she completely understood me.

"If that's what you want to spend eternity with, then absolutely. It does sound rather pleasant."

This would all take a while to sink in. I decided to think about it all later and proceeded to soak in her image. She was a beautiful person, not only for her looks, but for what I knew to be within her.

"I miss you.”

The sentence seemed to slip out, layered with my pain and sadness and guilt. It echoed within the constructs of my mind, the three words that summed up the whole of my being at that moment. In that one sentence was every tear I hadn't shed and every word I'd wished to say.

"I miss you too.”

She said the words softly after a slight pause. I think we both knew how we felt and we both knew that she was the stronger one right now. In life it had always been me, but I realized that she had always been my strength. I once again felt the crushing pressure of being alone in the world.

"I just miss you so much and I don't even know how to keep going anymore. How am I supposed to live without the one person who really understood me? How do I just, I don't... I know we used to talk and joke about how I was so strong and independent, but I'm not anymore. You changed that. You filled a void in my life that I never even knew was there and became so much more. I don't know how to succeed without you. So many times I've thought about following. I've held the gun in my hands and I didn't see an end, I saw you. I saw the only way to get to you."

My attempts to remain stoic couldn't hope to combat this pain. It boiled up and overflowed into everything. Even the eyes that she said 'had forgotten how to cry' were on the verge of tears. The pain and the guilt pushed out all other emotions.

"No matter how much it hurts, you will make it through. I know your purpose and drive, and I know you have the determination and strength, as well as the bravery. This is only just another challenge, like all those others that you faced and defeated. You never once took the coward’s way out, and I don't expect you to do so this time. I am still with you, in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul. No matter how it feels, you won't be alone."

She spoke calmly. Her grace had always astounded me. Even in death she was just as calming and comforting. My heart began to slow to its normal pace and I focused on collecting myself. She was so beautiful.

"I love you."

I couldn't count how many times I'd whispered those three words, but this time felt different. It was both a statement of belief and a promise. It was a binding agreement that I would survive, that I had to. It was an apology and a thank you, a symbol and a wish.

"I love you too.  You were the one person who ever even tried to reach beneath the surface. You saved me when I needed it most. I’m sorry I’m not there to be with you now."

But I hadn't saved her. At least, not when it counted. If I had, she would still be alive and I wouldn't be mired in this **** sadness. If I had, we would still be together.

“Forever and always.”

I watched as she faded, seeming to slip away from me. I didn't know how I felt. She looked into me with those deep eyes one more time and was gone. Everything was black and I was staring at the slightly red glow of the morning sun on my eyelids. I slowly opened my eyes, reluctant to lose any image that might be left of her.

"Forever and always."

I whispered her promise to the early Sun's rays, as though to hold them to the light, turning over and over to inspect them. Part of me had died with her, but the rest of me had to go on.

I used to stand before my kingdom,
Staring down to those below.
Wondering how to next amaze them,
To keep them in my shadow.

I used to stand beside the best,
Plotting my next ambitious move.
Each peer merely another test,
A battleground where I could prove.

Mind and body, my mighty sword,
Fist and pen, my trusty shield.
Opponents fell with my every word,
Until I cleared the field.

Then I attempted my greatest feat,
To conquer all the world.
To take down the highest elite,
And watch my flag unfurled.

Too long my power unparalleled,
Too long without an equal
Too many enemies, easily felled,
Eliminated my sequel.

My mind had dulled, my body weak,
Words did not flow forth to shield.
The fall came at my peak,
My fate was newly sealed.

What good was I, now below,
A king without his kingdom.
What did I have to show,
For the battles I had won?

Looking up, I could see,
My throne sitting far above
The place I used to be.
My one and only love.

I am defeated and downtrodden.
I wander cold and alone,
My feet tired and sodden.
For my sins I must atone.

This charade has ended,
I can no longer stomach the strain.
I'd rather quit, choice undefended,
Than to watch it slowly circle the drain.

The hours of waiting are past,
There is no more place for them here.
This now must be the last,
It was the final year.

The memories come tumbling down,
Feeling more like dreams than not.
Each crashing silently, not a sound,
Much more painful than I thought.

So many reasons, so many nights,
But I can no longer justify.
It's not fair and it's not right,
For the involved to stand idly by.

So now the hammer is crushing,
The blow staggering with finality.
Any further attempts just waves crashing,
Decision standing firm against the sea.

I'm sure the blood will run,
And the hate words will be poured out.
This was the battle I never won,
Weak and overcome with doubt.

Nothing here is happiness,
I find not joy in words of ending.
Soon now the reflective sadness,
As I feel the promise rending.

Words are but pointless lines,
Sentences conveyors of betrayal.
Fate fought all my best designs,
Until I caused my own self to fail.

It's not that you should care,
I just wanted you to know.
Now with the story told,
It is time to go.

Changing words change again,
Here I change for someone else.
Altercations to be avoided,
Placing words upon a shelf.

edit: original poems removed

*Second edit: I really regret ever removing these. The original poems have been lost for good.

Are you having fun?

Tell me how it feels to be you, to be lost without a shred of reality.
Are you having fun yet?

I wanted to be the one by your side, the main man in your life.
You wanted to be free to party and sleep around, waking up unsure of who or where.
Well tell me then, are you having fun yet?

What do the cold morning walks feel like?
Does the morning mist make your disheveled makeup run even faster?
Are you having fun yet?

I wonder what you feel when you walk past couples in the park.
I wonder if you are sickened by the thought, the memory of you and I in the same place.
I hope you're having fun by now.

What went through your head when you saw me, my ******* my arm?
You were being pulled down a sidewalk by a drunken stunner you'd just met.
Were you having fun then?

I'm laying in my warm bed, beside my love, wondering about you.
I hate that I still wonder.
I wonder if you are having fun yet.

I hate that you have done this to me.

Is this what giving up feels like?
Is this what giving in feels like?

I know where things go from here.
I know what happens next.
This is where my future disappears.
Where what I want fades away to what is best.

I knew you would come for me one day,
I knew it might be soon in time.
I secretly hoped that you would never find me,
That I might escape your way of life.

Finally the wait is over,
There is nothing left for me to fight.
No more to rage at dying day,
I must go softly into this goodnight.

I wander lost in wondering lust,
Following a stream to the source.
Lick my lips and take your hips,
Yearning bodies take their course.

I travel on gravel dawns,
Making a journey every morn.
Take flight after every night,
Satisfied and reborn.

I light flames and write names,
Ignoring social stigma.
Follow their trail without fail,
I seek out each enigma.

I need to thank you, faithful friend,
For all the worry watched.
For every night you’ve been at my side,
For every danger that you caught.

I cannot escape you,
Following my path to the end.
If only I could see you,
If only I could talk to you, my friend.

I wonder what you think of me,
Watching my toils and strife.
I wonder if you believe in me,
If you think I live a worthwhile life.

It pains me to think that you look on,
Distaste at my every decision.
I hate to think you deem me lost,
That I’m unfocused in my mission.

If you cry when I fall,
The ground is soaked and wet.
Does admonishment fill your face,
When past lessons I forget?

Do you silently scream at me,
Berating with silent roar,
When I choose to fall and fail again,
Or when I lose my path once more?

Does frustration grip you,
Are you stuck with me forever?
Do you hate me now,
Does anger tingle in every feather?

I know that I fall often,
I know you save me from even more.
I hope that you don’t hate me,
I hope patience ushers forth.

Thank you for following me,
Thank you for not taking flight.
I’m glad to call you a friend,
Guardian angel in the night.

Sometimes, rarely often,
I lie awake, awake at night.
I wonder, wander, ponder,
The theme of you and I.

Though my soul blooms sick,
With ever lasting, lasting doubt,
I try to find, fend, comprehend,
Just how I'll go without.

You and I, such doomed hope,
This play of such, such cruelty.
Fate molded, melded, welded,
I to you and you to me.

Through scenes of flawed perfection,
We dance, dance and sigh.
Still flitting, flaunting, wanting,
Our freedom and the sky.

The screams and roars call me to war,
Demand my presence to settle the score.
They need my light to lead the fight,
A pinnacle of the saving might.

These men, they die, as they cry,
Requesting that their spirits fly.
For they sin, time and again,
Fighting a fight only I can win.

The enemy has them on their knees,
Promising lies and pleasures to please.
A sorry some abandon me. Succumb,
To temptation, their lives undone.

If they followed me they would see,
I can make them the best they can be.
My love will shower down from above,
Turning crows to purest doves.

Their calls drive me to end their fall,
I can't say no, I love them all.
The Father sent me to set them free,
To lead to heaven, for love of thee.

Though nails bind and ****** hails,
I am the love that never fails.
Forgive the true, knowing not what they do.
My last breath is expended for you.

She shuts the door
Flips the switch
Calls my name
Tosses the covers
Hair in my face
Scent in my nose
Lips still on my tongue
Moving her hips beside me
Stirring the heart inside me
Eyes shutting reluctantly

Never a greater peace
Than when she falls asleep
Held tightly in my arms

Hello Darkness, my old friend,
The self-doubt that comes creeping in.
Hello Darkness, fickle and fiendish,
It is nice to see you again.

Hello Ambition, my old mentor,
The hunger that has me ceasing never.
Hello Ambition, controlling and unending,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Fear, my old companion,
The sickness that feeds my abandon.
Hello Fear, raw and uncut,
It is nice to see you again.

Hello Anger, my old lover,
The fire that never sated hunger.
Hello Anger, lean and strong,
It is nice to see you again.

Hello Lust, my old partner,
The taste that pushed me harder.
Hello Lust, empty and rich,
It is nice to see you again.

Hello Love, my old *****,
The red and gold double edged sword.
Hello Love, lying and cheating,
It is nice to see you again.

Hello Night, my old mother,
The love for which I killed another.
Hello Night, deceitful and peaceful,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Envy, my old rival,
The burning need for my survival.
Hello Envy, cold and hard,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Curse, my old bride,
The one who eats away my pride.
Hello Curse, persistent and pursuant,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Gluttony, my old coach,
The pain that ate away my hope.
Hello Gluttony, empty and barren,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Pride, my old brother,
I love you more than the others.
Hello Pride, full and robust,
It is good to see you again.

Hello Darkness, my oldest of friends.
It was from you that I was born.
Hello Darkness, come to swallow me again,
From the light I am torn.