well I wonder on these late nights
if you stay up for no reason like I do
and then find your mind wander to me
and wonder what you are doing

I got asked who I loved today
my response was that I used to love you
but love never fails
well if that's true it's not
cause it was love

I always think about what you could be doing
or think about how it's going
nobody ever tells me the truth about u
only alright and fine
along with "he's hanging in there"

you make it hard cause I don't know if I will be able to fall in love for a year or two
or maybe eternity
but I can't help but compare
but then again I know I deserve better than what u gave me
but because I've only been in love once <with you> and so I don't have anyone else to compare with
but at least I'll know when it comes next that it's love
so I'll thank you
I'll know because what we had was reality

Thou knowest all; I seek in vain
What lands to till or sow with seed—
The land is black with briar and ****,
Nor cares for falling tears or rain.

Thou knowest all; I sit and wait
With blinded eyes and hands that fail,
Till the last lifting of the veil
And the first opening of the gate.

Thou knowest all; I cannot see.
I trust I shall not live in vain,
I know that we shall meet again
In some divine eternity.

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,
A maid of Dian’s this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat still to endure,
And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress’ eye Love’s brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied a sad distempered guest,
    But found no cure. The bath for my help lies
    Where Cupid got new fire—my mistress’ eyes.

This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calmed - see here it is -
I hold it towards you.

When I first met you it was dark
underneath the society in which you favored yourself the plague
I shook your hand and smiled
but you already saw through my mask
I was never good at lying
and I would never be close to lying to you

I watched you from the passenger seat
the rain pelted my windshield but all I could hear was you
You spoke in big ideas, like stars and planets
you wanted me to picture myself among them
but I was rooted into the ground like the old oak in my backyard
turn left, then right
the pavement dancing past so thoughtlessly
it had no idea of the brilliance that drove upon it

I loved you when you weren't listening
when you were laughing to yourself about your own joke
and I joined you
hoping you would understand
but you never did
I bought you coffee and knew your order
Hours with you felt like minutes
and when you left the hollow in my chest grew
I loved you so heavily with every hug and hand hold
every minute of every day
but nothing seemed to show you how I was feeling

I lost you too many times to count
Sometimes it was on my terms
other times it was on yours
but bullet wounds hurt no matter which way you shoot
When I lay in bed and watch the ceiling
I think back to when I first met you
I wonder what I could have done to convince you to join the real world
but my world had become you
and yours me
and in that light, I didn't want to go back

and we roamed my bed
like the corners of your city
struggling to breathe,
grasping to every thread
of my soft sheets
you brought fire to my body,
brought waves of ocean
from my steaming pores
and you're thrusting
like diving down a deep well
crying out like a wolf
as if my ceiling is the moon
without any uncertainty,
you held the hanging bells
from the temple you're
trying to rule,
like you would to your pillow
pinch, bite, and lick
as if you're trying to do
some sort of a magic trick

what we did felt good,
your love tastes good,
and the daylight came
reaching out my windows
touching my eyes softly
and slowly, I came to my senses
and wished to be asleep forever
or prolong my greatest night

the darkness died as the sun came up
and you were gone in the morning
like my old school camp fire

gone for good...

after a night of festive screams,
scratches, and rolling in the hay,
what I got was just a trip
in Heaven and Hell
and I was so burned by your body,
blinded by your touch,
silenced with your kisses,
for a few hours, you made me
an object of your desires and lust

you're a daydream in the night
and your love is a mirage

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it