There are still times I reach for my phone to start texting you.  

When I see something funny or find a new song, you’re still the first person I want to share it with.

Sometimes I go days without thinking of you, but then you show up in a dream. Or a memory.

I’m not over you, and that’s okay.

Happy Birthday.

I just want to say thank you
Thank you for the kiss in bed
And the eggs in the morning

I just want to say I miss you
The way you type with your thumb and forefinger, I was always confused how you managed to hold on, not drop your phone in mid text conversation.

It’s been months since we last spoke.

But the idea that we can still be friends is comforting.

Like using canola oil instead of butter to fry an egg. No matter how much oil you dump into the pan, it’s still going to stick to the bottom. Come out broken and drenched.

The oil is a good substitute. But it is not the real thing. And I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-butter is just a replacement for my feelings.

The sky is not falling, I wake up in the morning and still brush my teeth.

But it’s night now. I lie in bed thinking about slam poetry, thinking about if only I had the right words. The right metaphor to make you feel like me...me thinking about, thinking about, thinking about, thinking about

Losing you.

And I know you aren’t lost. At most you can use the maps on your phone. To guide you to the nearest grocery store. Pick out a fresh new dozen.

I just want to say thank you, you’ve laid down the recipe, spoken it into existence, but I can’t find the spatula to take it off the burner.

What is left is stuck between my teeth, the taste of char replaces expectations of nourishment. It lingers as I am forced to swallow.

I know you were trying to minimize the pain. But the stove was on high and my arms are covered in burns.

I don’t love you any more. But I’m out of butter, and my toast is burnt.

I miss the way you made me breakfast. And how you loved me.

what is it that sits below my eyes?

It is there,

but yet I can't see.

It is felt,

but yet I do not know.

what is it that sits above my smile?

It can't be heard,
It can't be smelt,

and yet I can't ignore it.

I don't like initiating every single conversation
                                                            hangout
                                                            text
It's not that I don't have friends
It's just that they have friends
                                        other friends
                                         more important friends
It's not that I don't to people
It's just that they only talk to me because they see me
five times a week

It's not that I spend friday nights alone
curled up watching netflix
I still keep my phone by my side waiting for an invitation

Because it's not like I haven't tried
I'm just not the friend you invite to a party
                                                          to hangout
                                                          to eat
And it's not like that doesn't hurt
finding ways to mask the excuse of always being along
introvertism can only go so far.

It's not like I don't ask to be included
I'm just not a part of the core group
                                           the group chat
                                           the skype call

Look, I understand. I get it, I really do
You have other friends, priorities, drama,
and I just fade into the background

Maybe I'm too independent or laid back
Maybe I'm not engaging enough and don't text back

It's not that I'm lonely
It's not that I don't try
I've just learned not to have to charge my phone over night
I've just learned to expect a phone call from my parents
or a text from my sister

I'm not in a friend group, but I have friends
I'm not in the group message,
                  the skype call
                  the table in the mess hall
And I would be okay with that

If I didn't know

But you let slip, without warning,
the meme that someone posted in the group
something funny someone said during lunch
the craziness of friday night

But I know
And I care

Curled toes
body heat

there is no snow
only cold air pushing in

closed eyes
big blankets

there are no lights on
only dawn breaking through

shallow breathe
eyes close back again

good morning

I once had a dream
where I was told that I was blind,
but I could see just fine

Hello...
Hi...
I um just happen to notice that you're a person. And I also happen to be a person.
By this, I see that we have something in common. **** sapiens, hmm, right?

No?
What do you mean by no?
You aren't a person?
But, but...

those eyes.
That nose,
and those genetics.

You don't associate your self with humans?
Hmmm,
I see.
Well I do,
I guess that means we can't be acquaintances then.
it was nice meeting you.
Good bye for now

I wish I could make everything better,
But, I know just as much as you.

I wish I could heal your pain,
But, I cannot see what you have been through.

I guess...now, I understand how I am the better half.
Yet, you don't see the contempt.
I don't believe it so,

halves are suppose to be equal.

I wish you would talk to me,
but I growl back instead.

You hit my foot as a way of love,
and I tap your knee in return.

I wish I knew what to say,
I wish I knew what to do,
I wish
and I wish.

But, all it is is empty.
So, I'll just stand by you.

Voice
is what I see,
it is what I hear.
But, what is voice?
All it is is air.
Air
air vibrating to more air.
to things that run on the oxygen.
To the throat, to the neck, to the person.
Who was once star dust, and will one day return to the stars.
When I think of voice,
I think of my own.
The one in my head, not the one that you hear.
Because that is my voice, it it does not change through time,
harden with the wind and twisted in the cold.

It never gets tired, it is the only constant reminder
that I am my self.
Not anyone else.
I don't hear it in my ears. Or see it through my eyes.

I can't because
voice is only made up of air, vibrations of air, traveling through more air.
Now, I'm afraid. I slow down my speech pattern so that the rubble in my head can be heard over the screaming pain that echoes in the back of my neck,
wait no, I mean head, the front of my head. The back of my head...
my brain.

Why are you only electricity when I wished for air?

It's
it's
it's a collection of thoughts
cough cough
a
a
a collection of things, things that don't want to be seen.
Seen by the likes of you, with your nosey eyes and pointed up chin.
Look at all the disgrace that you placed on them.
But, don't be sad, happy, or crossed between both.

It's
it's not about your emotional pain.
I am the star of this show, do you not see the bright lights that glean out of my checks?
But, now they are turning meek and red from the heat.
The show slowly turns to you and
I fade out,
sitting alone not because I have no one,
but because they are in places I don't want to be.
in places that I don't want to see,

Now, what am I trying to say?
Oh yes, listen to me.
I am me.
I am not the ocean, or the sun.
The moon does not crave my call.

You are not the earth or the world,
you do not deserve my attention, nor I yours.

What is observed and deserved...
it's
it's
it's called being kind,
because maybe I can help, if you let me.
I hate you, you stole my shine.
But, don't be discouraged when I still hold out a pencil for you to use on your final exam.

I do not  intent for this to be a threat or a regret. I am just trying to help,
my own opinions do not hold true.

You do not have to trust me or love me,
Because I will not.

The difference between us is subtle, yet I see it.
No matter, if I can make your day a little better I will try.
Or make you laugh rather than cry I will still try.

A skull on my finger
A skull on my shirt
A skull on my pants...

Will anyone notice?

You're young
no matter how much your chin points up
or how you can hold a conversation
the quiver isn't in your voice
footstep
or how modest you are.

you're young
and the naivety can only be shown
through the half crooked smile
and the raw look in your eye when everything seems perfect.

you're young, now
live

It's 1:25 in the morning.
I'm sitting in bed,
not really knowing why I'm still awake.

It's the ear bud in my ear,
the other dangling by my side.
No music is playing, no music is on pause.

It's the unknown beat in my head,
I think about moving to its rhyme.
But then it's gone. Replaced with a new song.

It's the sleep that etches into my eyes,
or the bags under them.

Hell,
it's the fact that I think I'm twisted.
or maybe it's the reason I'm tired.

I wonder if my life would be alright
If I turned into a cat between the night

The main mission of my day of slumber
Is to find the most comfortable place to lumber

In solitude I would thrive
Teamwork still Would be nice

All I know is cats dream of mice
Sometimes I think that would be nice.

Thoughts bombared my mind,
I think thats all fine.
Isn't it the way we twirl,
Before the evening light.

The narrow line
I swallow

And the things I never finis

In the beginning and in the end
we all thrive for the same thing

and for that thing
time doesn't change
while its forms may never be the same

but the causes of all our battles won
and the end of the every lost heart...

here lie a women and a man
but who they are

nobody knows
and yet sorrow feels our eyes

and yet we can't help but wonder
and yet time still dies

and our grasp has slipped away

we can neither go back
and the future we await

stuck in the present past and time

but what we know isn't in our mind

for you see I only know half the story

and the rest is only for you to find out
but look and you will see

what time has laid out for thee

don't look back forward march
and remember
look before you cross the street

I've come and gone
and never really heard what you've said
and yet you've never heard what I said either
and yet I still care
and wonder
and wait

it's like living a dream
a see put never speak
and just watch as the people leave

standing at the corner I look up to see
a person waiting for me
smiling a little to show my teeth
a try to catch up to the person in the big crowd

tripping back on fallen hope
and getting hit by
the pain of the fallen people that have played the game

living so hard and living so free
makes my dreams part of reality

but who cares
when I'm just stuck with the crowd
getting pushed in pulled in the cover of the flow

making my dreams so hard to live out
and making me so hard to stand out

but what if I tould you I had a secret
and that the world will never hear it
but if you keep your mouth shut you will never fear it

and the dreams that will one day become reality
will always be there floating by your head
while I reach down
and take them away

to make a wish on them
some hours later

Tonight the city feasts in the dark.
As a drunk staggers home.
Left alone in the quite patter of the rain.
Noticing only the steps forward.
Never looking away,
The sway of a life bumbling 5 feet deep,
Stumbling the streets of a city that never sleeps.

You can watch the world through the windshield of a car.
The knowledge of a constant law.
The racing against the clock.
While the sun and moon seem to always be by your side.
A blink and what you didn't know gone.
When looking straight forward, cars don't move,
Only you really are.

If your not behind the wheel, its even more a threat.
You see the as the driver
But never to understand
The car jerks and pulls under your feet,
slamming against the breaks
Is no surprise to the driver,  only the passenger has strings attached.

Feel the rumble of the car,
The murmur of the engine
Note the swing of your body
And the bounce of the tires.
Continues the cycle
Until cars become out of style.

I'm sick of the sadness
I want to wake up in a ray of sunshine

or have a stranger smile at me on the street

A button that lets you release the pain into light
to make beautiful paintings in the sky

let the worried be flushed down and washed away
but let the life fill up to the brim

make a butterfly not carry the burden of thunder,
but flutter and flap with the wind.

I want a seat next to the director,
and make funny faces at actors to distract them

make the burst of laughter spontaneous
and life worth living

it burns,
but it doesn't leave

I wish it would
as I think back to what I could have done
what would have happened if I listened.

it still burns,
I can't understand the pain
I don't see the pain

I saw the smile
I guess that was fake as well.

it burns,
as it fills up my eyes

daring to spill

I haven't felt anything for a while

I see the smiles
and feel them spreading across my face

but  haven't felt anything for a while now

Its like im lost in reality

where the world keeps on spinning and times doesn't slow down

but my questions just tumble around, pile high in a mound of why's

I laugh and cry
but really I don't know why

I no what people may want me to feel
but those feeling never get felt

the smiles are just smiles and the tears are only tears

cause i haven't felt in a while

he acts like he doesn't remember now
when he burned down and cried
curled up in a ball
and unable to move or
even make a sound

He acts like he doesn't remember now
and as if we weren't there
to watch
as our own world crumbled
and fell
we cried on the inside
behind him
never letting a tear out
but he acts like he doesn't
know
but for surely he does

now we act like we don't know
and its not hard to
tell

that all has fallen with him
and we are unable to watch

there's no gravestone
or funeral to remember
him by
but he is not
dead

for he breathes
and must eat

dead to the world
it seems

"and please
close the door
when you
leave"

In my dreams or in reality
these ideas or nightmares
are turning up everywhere
no matter where I go
or where I stand
they follow me
in my dreams
and they stare up at me with there big eyes
I can't look away because its me I'm facing
there on ever corner
looking at there faces I see no emotion
there just looking at me
like a blank wall theres nothing to see
but the edge in my voice cuts me deep
and realizing whats inside of me wants out
is to much to breathe
can't let go and can't move on
even though they've been done a long time ago
I still wonder
and the eyes still wander
inside my head they search for something even I can't see
something deep,
finally
a drop of paint gets on the blank wall
and the eyes do see, and not just stare
with those eyes; moving on isn't easy
but who said it was to hard?
like finally waking up
its time to go
so say goodbye now

it's like living a dream
to see but never speak
and just watch as the people leave

standing at the corner I look up to see
a person waiting for me
smiling a little to show my teeth
a try to catch up to the person in the big crowd

tripping back on fallen hope
and getting hit by
the pain of the fallen people that have played the game

living so hard and living so free
makes my dreams part of reality

but who cares
when I'm just stuck with the crowd
getting pushed in pulled in the cover of the flow

making my dreams so hard to live out
and making me so hard to stand out

but what if I tould you I had a secret
and that the world will never hear it
but if you keep your mouth shut you will never fear it

and the dreams that will one day become reality
will always be there floating by your head
while I reach down
and take them away

to make a wish on them
some hours later

Use your imagination
they whisper
handing me
a pen and paper

I wander through the halls
with paper clutched in hand
sinking down when hearing their
yells
rapidly I come up
with these words:
Imagination is what I have left
Everything gone
The fighting never ends
The yelling
kills me inside
The angry faces
burns me away
Looking up to find the noise has ended
closing the door in my face
My imagination has gone with everything else

crumbled up in the dark

wild fire dancing
blue as the ocean
surrounding a black shadow
dancing around, they never sleep
age doesn't come upon them

I look and read them
but the guide was never made
lost in the wind it flew

the deep desire and secret lives hidden inside them
but dancing at the top
full of energy, hope,
and not a care in the world
are two eyes