What is this love
That rises
From such fleeting encounters
And
Don't you dare
For a second
Say that it's infatuation
It was not
The shape of your body
But the sanctuary of your gaze
That causes me to lament
What we could be
Our paths bend
Touching at the elbows
Then parting sharply
What form of matter
conjured by your stare
Is capable of affecting me so?

Your pretend interest
does not go unnoticed
I feel your hesitation as we speak
I know you're simply agreeing
Just nodding your head
Half in acknowledgement
And half as an urging to move on
It bothers me at times
I feel like we aren't engaging
But then I realize
I do the same when you talk
About that "***** in class"
And you're really in the wrong
Or some new clothes you want
Truly
I love nothing more than when we talk
with each other
But sometimes we're going to talk
At each other
And I think that's ok
Feigned interest can be
as much an act of love
As it is an act of dismissal
And we're both still here, listening
So I'll choose to believe
It is the former

Unfortunately
The reality
Of our daily experience
Is
Easily mitigated
By our ability
To infinitely
Filter and wade through
That which we prefer to avoid

I'm too far away
from those summer nights
when we would just sit
and listen
to each other
breathe
i don't remember
i think you tried
to change me
but
i know
i tried to change
you
if I remember
you said I wasn't
there for you
but the face you put on
is turning old and gray
and my sympathies are withering
maybe one day
you'll see
i was the shoulder you said you need

Line after line
Word after word
I feebly
and desperately
utter these simple combinations
like prayers
or mantras
hoping to infuse
them with some divine
healing power
wishing
completion for myself
and these poems
but neither of us
is ever finished
nor
will we ever be finished
because pain is a marathon runner
and I
can guarantee you
he is better conditioned
for the trek
than you
or I

When I connect with a poem
I don't really care
Who wrote it
Or
Where they're from
Still
I weave a tapestry
In their honor
Composed not of facts
About who they were
in life or death
But solely with the colored thread
They have hidden
for you
and
for me

I'm really trying
Honest
To stick to my guns
And not let
My heart get out
Of my hand
But like some child
Urging me to play in the rain
Your simple elegance
compels me
To accept the downpour
Weathering into a puddle
At your feet
I look up
I am the child
And I just want you
To hold the hand
Where my heart used to be
And not let go

Somedays you just feel
like a puddle of ****
and you understand
why it's so hard
to meet someone
other days
you are a gladiator
and it's just as hard
but more confusing
i can’t decide
which is worse

I awoke this morning
Face in the sand
Choking on the grains and
incapable of mustering enough
Something
to vanquish the apathy
that keeps me there
and now
i sit here
alone in my room
thinking horribly false
unsupported thoughts
that rattle my heart
until it shakes my bones
I don’t know
from where
these thoughts come
but I know where they go

Trees like capillaries
Rise and fall with each breath
Your breath passes over me
I breathe it in, making it my own
Recycled lines and images
turn over in my head
Day after day
Old experiences in new minds breed
fresh songs from innocent lips

There is something
Attractive about the life
Of hermits
Whether it's the
Courage or
The cowardice
I can’t decide

No matter what happens
It's always life
And life is best lived
With eyes open

I don't want reality
Just
Some facsimile that provides
Me with the emotions
Necessary to write

I crave
some new mistake
so you can see
i still need you
because
it seems we’re not through
if you think
you can fix
this
we can repent
but we know our sins
just please
please remind me
because
i thought
the caged bird sings

An emptiness sits
Between us
A heavy handed silence
Commands the space
With a tyrant's fist
Lackeys for its whim
We await instructions

I keep thinking about you
Fear overrides my patience
I wish life were lived on
The surface, sometimes
I wonder if everyone
Else feels
The same
Or maybe the subtle
Communication
And
Bravery of relationships
Is some form of currency
For a country I
Haven't heard of