I have a memory of him
that I love.

I came over on a sunny day
and he asked me to take
a ride with him.
Of course I said yes.

He smiled when I put on
the helmet,
and I wrapped my arms
around his waist.
Everybody used to think
I was crazy for getting
on the back of his bike,
but I wasn't afraid.
I trusted him.

And I remember that during
the ride he would let his right
hand fall,
and rest on my leg.
I knew he was doing this
on purpose because I could feel
his fingers tighten around me.

Even though my *** hurt
from sitting on the back
of his dirt bike,
I didn't want it to end.

Riding was his special thing,
and I felt such joy that he
wanted me along.

I would do anything
to be on the back of that bike
again.

The cat is laying at
my feet,
and there are people
in my living room
doing dabs,
choking and coughing.
My neighbors and my room mates.
I am lying here,
high as the moon myself,
thinking about how I needed
to capture this moment
for some reason.
A train goes by again,
and my fan is whirring in
the window.
The cat moves her head.

It's been a good night

I miss being alone,
and taking time for myself.
I miss sitting on the couch,
sharing a bowl with my lips
and catching up on a show that I love.
I miss watching the sun set,
and not saying a word.
Taking walks, or going on a cruise.
True peace and quiet.
I miss smoking in my car at
the fort at nine in the morning.
Taking my time after a shower,
because I have nowhere to go.
Greed and gluttony used to be my lovers,
spending all of my money on things that I want,
whenever I want it.

I miss all of the time that I once
thought was being wasted.

I think I am coming to
terms,
on my own,
that it is okay that I still
feel love for him, that I still care,
even if I never find out if he does too.
We were more than just a few months.
We were best friends,
we were all each other had at that time.
I loved him for exactly who he was,
and he loved me, for me.
My heart will always want him
to be happy, to have peace.
And that's okay.
It is okay to care about someone.
I need to remember this, so I can stop
wondering why why why.

I want to tell him
that it wasn't fair to
finally ask me to be his,
when he knew I was someone else's.
Especially since we both considered
ourselves in the friend zone
with each other,
because I was taken.

I haven't heard from him since
that evening when he asked me if
I wanted to give us a try.

And I said, not right now.

He couldn't be my friend,
because he wanted to be my everything.

Sometimes when I think
about him it makes me sick
to my stomach.
Like I'm going throw up every
nice word he ever whispered
in my ear.
Sometimes when I think
about him, it makes tears fall
to my hands.
Like every time he touched me
is all being felt in this one moment.
Sometimes when I think
about him it lifts my soul.
Like every time he made me smile
just happened.

Sometimes I think about him.

Sometimes I wonder if he thinks about

me.

This is all too much,
how can one week out of
an entire year feel so **** long.
My hands have hardly left
my hair alone,
and my smile has only made a
brief appearance.
Well what's wrong?
whatswrongwhatswrongwhatswrongwhatswrong
Nothing.
Everything.
me.
My whole entire life. Its not going as planned,
its not what I want.
I always need money, but I don't want it.
My job is everything I hate.
And I am stuck here.
I'm stuck. I'm stuck. I'm stuck.

I just really need a break from life
for awhile.