I missed you yesterday.
So I started folding paper planes,
But I knew they'd never reach you.
Aerodynamics         paper              really         up.
                          and            doesn't            a­dd

I switched to folding boats instead,
And they looked strong and sharp.
But they sank even
                                  faster
                   ­                         than
                                   ­                  my
                                                            he­art.
And, no one ever taught me how to sail.

Then, I tried my hand at paper cranes,
Because, I read somewhere,
"One thousand cranes are good for one true wish."
But I stopped after forty-three,
When I ran out of square paper and band-aids.

So, I folded up some stars instead,
But they weren't any good.
They didn't twinkle and they couldn't
                                                        ­          even
                                                  ­                          fall...
(and i stopped wishing on stars years ago).

I gave up on origami; I was never very good.
Paper only likes me when with pen.
Instead, I'll try to reach you
with the words I love to write --
poetry [and] promises [and] dreams
(and maybe a few apologies for loving you all wrong).
All I really wanted to say was,

"Baby, run away with me."

But I didn't think - the words alone - would move you.