"You're good for him.
Stay."

winter has left and it took him with it,
along with my sanity and understanding.
and you would think spring would bloom flowers,
but i only see myself wilting and shaking.

winter may be gone, but the winds inside of me are still screaming;
more often than not i'm left clutching my heart in the middle of the night
crying because the rain of spring never really did make it's appearance,
and I'm lost.

There's something about the smell after the rain;
you know, the kind where all feels as if it's been washed away
and made new again? That's what I needed.

Droplets formed on the windows of the car,
as did they on my cheeks while his arms wrapped around me;
his head resting on mine like clouds during rain or shine.

Tonight, I was a thunderstorm.

He was always my rain;
sometimes he was a drought, sometimes he was a weekly storm;
but he was always my rain.

My sorrows were puddling into my hands,
my mind the heavy fog of a late March night,
and my heart a huge pothole in the middle of the road.

It's 12:45 and my clothes smell like him;
it's the smell after the rain;
didn't think I could drown in so many ways.

I'm stuck in the rain,
but i wish it was his cloud.

NJ2015

Racing down Madison Avenue against traffic
was never how I expected to crash into him.

He draped his arms around the wreckage, holding it tightly;
everything was piled against the tree -broken pieces scattered;
eyes black as oil stained his white T-shirt,
gasping, crying, inaudible speech.

The gas ran empty and the windows fogged,
everything fell to the floor, fell apart,
broke down - and then it was fixed.

by the simple putting together of a mechanic?

I crashed into myself,
by the dictionary definition of violently colliding;
fell apart.

but, when I crashed into him,
everything fell together.

N.R

there's four kinds of love poems.

1. the one about the guy who you wish to experience. the guy who makes you wonder. the guy you're curious about. the man who has dreams not yet revealed. the guy you have made a picture of in your head. the one you want to know.

2. the guy who broke your heart. the boy you love. love him more than anything, but maybe youre just not in love anymore. the boy who never quite transitioned to a man. the 'wrong time.' the one you thought you would live your life with. the one who wasnt perfect, or even great, but you thought of him the world.

3. the comparison. who you thought you loved, but realized later on there is a love much stronger. the people who fall into this category grows bigger with experience and time.

4. the love of your life and if you're lucky, hopefully he's the same person as number one.

all the mornings he woke me up drunk
to walk to his house,
were because when he was sober,
and the day got later,
he had much better things to do,
than watch time slow down in my eyes.

NR2015

tears will fall from your eyes beyond your control,
you'll hate to tear away from his touch for the first time in a month,
his voice will sound like the song of a canary,
and his smell will bring you back home,

but when you don't have to clutch your heart
because you don't feel your lungs collapsing,
or your breath stopping short in your throat,
or your veins flood with anger and shake your body,
you're on the right road.

his eyes will be safe-havens you turn away from,
and you'll want to embrace and hug him
because you never know when it will be the last time,

but
when he's walking away,
and you don't feel your feet trying to follow,
or your hands trying to grasp and hold him back,

know, he's already lost you;
know, he doesn't have all of you anymore
and you're gonna be okay, kid.

NR(2015)

i took him to a rooftop NYC skyline dinner,
told him it was an all you can eat,
and he did.

and he took me to a fast food restaurant,
and said, "hey, you're a penny short."

NR2015