i could lay awake trying to solve expressions, equations, puzzles and mazes
as to why things never worked out between us,
between a whole list of people i had become temporarily mesmerized with,
a short infatuation in which my mind convinces itself that these people have no fault, that their actions are pure, that they mean what they say, that they yearned for consistency.  
the incandescence of the person they portrayed in my head dies out, and soon enough they turn into a silhouette i brush by, a figure i used to know, someone who knows the bits of me i could give away, a little bit of my light fading away with them.

my mind soothes the trembling thoughts,
and reminds itself that these people were not for me,
we did not speak the same language,
we did not sing the same song,
their fingers did not trace over keyboards lovingly,
the sides of their hands were not smeared with ink,
their bedside tables did not hold journals that housed pages lined with emotion,
they did not yearn to caress they keys of a typewriter to create a sonnet to soothe the soul
their thoughts simply superficial,
sentences with no structure,
a pathway toward something strictly physical,
not enough to feed my hunger for words.