Usually I'd be
brokenhearted, and,
believe me,
I was-
knowing that we
can't be together
and that maybe,
maybe you don't even
love me and maybe
never will-

but instead,
I'm happy.
I'm so ******* thrilled.
I am so in love with you that
even unreturned,
my heart's in bliss

Passion
is capable
in me-
and that in this
earth,
on this plane,
somewhere where I
was ****** into
at birth,
you exist.

God,
you exist and
I'm able to
love
you.

Are these the days
I'll look back,
fondly on?

when I think,
how could this life
get any worse- you're not
here and I'm in love
with your ghost.

But baby, we had
it good.
When the nights weren't
so cold
and the hope of blossoming
love was still
budding with
the charm of
August nights
and endless
fits of song

Are these the days I'll look back fondly on?

It hurt so much
when you first
said that you don't
love me

and now the
pang of rejection,
the sound of dismissal,
the so-far-from-fleeting-feeling of
refusal's
like a
healing wound that's on
my skin.

You can't stop me.

You can't stop me from
loving you with the
insatiable craving for
all that you are,
the undefinable hope
when you've said that
there's none

but after time,
after an October of
not hearing your voice,
unanswered love sleeps
so quietly within
me,
gently in me,
where for a moment,
the burn is just a
silent cinder
who glows
without
completely
fading
  away

I'm letting it kindle,
kindle in me
and
when you realize you
love me, let
this steady ember guide
you home.

Oh my,
darling,
standing there
in denim
where your
eyes immediately
go to mine
and your hands,
magnets to
my waist

You say that you
don't love me

now you can't stop kissing me

and sometimes,
between kissing,
you hold my nervous jaw
between your hands and you push my
head against your chest
and you hold me like
a china doll you've
caught from
falling

how is it
you can hold me
like this
and say that you
don't love me

Love,
I've never felt more
fragile
and more sheltered
all the same.

Every man I date
has a
balcony
with a view
This is something I
noticed as
I was driving
to the café today,

Every man I
date
chose his
apartment for
the sights- so what,
if anything,
does that say about
me?

A man with a
skyline.
A man with a
view.
Another
man that's replacing
the every thought
of sleeping in
a tree-tall
loft with
you

I only date men who
love a good view.