I'm going away
to the place where need and want
shake hands

they go out for dinner
get drunk off wine
discuss life and its meaning
need tells want
he loves her
want tells need
she loves him too

need leaves want

they meet again in 5 years
want has gained weight
need has a receding hairline

need tells want
i miss you
want tells need
i miss you
and then leaves

need follows want
for the rest of the story

That's where I'm headed.

Next time
I wont have this job
You wont have that job

Next time
The distance
Between
“See you soon” and “welcome home”
Wont extend from here to there

Next time
We will stick around
Till last call
And till the call after that

Next time maybe just maybe
It’ll be your call
Your decision made
Phone rings
And maybe next time
I will answer with something
Other than just hello

Perhaps next time
The cloudiness of it
Will clear up
And we will see through
To the horizon, even to space

It’s possible that next time
If there ever were to be a next time
That next time
We could have some time

Well, maybe next time.

How masochistic
To love someone
Who wont have you

It will never be
Not beacause we want different things
Not because you wont have it or I wont have it
It wont be
Because it just wont be

So do I sit and wait for something else?
Or do I focus on other things
Hoping that it’ll happen on its own?

But then
What if by focusing on other things,
I inadvertedly deprive myself of
having that one thing I’ve always wanted?

This thing I want
It cannot be
If just by the fact
That I want it
Someone else has to want it too
It’s a team effort

And maybe, because of this
Im better off doing things
Alone.
Maybe because of this
There is an I in team
There is a me
But there is no we
No us
No them
Just me

Maybe we do choose
Our own destiny
Maybe
We choose without intention
Maybe our destiny
Who and what will be
We choose not by choosing what we want
But by choosing our only option

And maybe our only option is to settle
Settle for the next best thing
Well why's it so wrong to expect the best
Save for being let down
Maybe all I have is the expectation for the best
Maybe the best can’t happen because I expect it

Maybe what the team needs is to stop expecting to win
And at the end of the game
The team looks at the me, the we, the us, the them

And realizes

What could have been
Doesn’t fit into
What was
What could have been
Has lips
That kiss me on the forehead
After a night out
What could have been
Writes pages and pages
About what it felt like
And ignites them
With the flame from last night’s candle
What could have been
Downs that cup of tea
Because there’s just not enough
Time.
What could have been
Has roots deep in the ground.
They’ve been there since birth
And refuse to break loose
What could have been
Listens to a borrowed record
Which skips now
In the first few moments of the ******
What could have been
Remembers
It cannot be.

I’ve had enough of today.
Unfulfilled plans: quota filled.
Smiles: check.
Yawns: been there, done that.
Through the motions
as usual.

I’ve had enough of today.
Tomorrow, you can arrive in a timely manner.
I give you permission.
I’m ready.
To do it again.
Just like they say:
Same ****, different day.

I often wonder
What its like to
Wake up
Thinking about what’s next
Loving that day
That sun
For shining on this face
This face that will see
All the things
That that face will not

I often wonder
If who I am
What I am
Is because of who I was
What I was
Was I always what I am?

I often wonder
When I will stop this pattern
Work. Sleep. Neglect. Guilt.
Repeat.
I can’t right now.
I’m too busy working.

Too busy to notice.
That I just keep wondering.
That the grass grew last night
A little more than usual
That you went to bed
One minute earlier.
That you parked on the street this time.

I often wonder.
What it means to be
You.

Wouldn’t it be nice if
You made a plan
Plan to meet me
Halfway between
Lets hang out
And lets make out
Make out and make up
Because we never really did
Make up

Wouldn’t it be nice if
You could stay out
Out of my mind
You run and my thoughts chase you
Thoughts are winning
But you’ll come in a close second
They’d put a red ribbon on your chest
But you wont stop running long enough

Wouldn’t it be nice if
I didn’t always write about you
Not like you write to me anyway
But once in a while
“Hihowareyoui’mfine.”
Such dull words
If you don’t like the taste
If you don’t like the way you feel
Spell it out
Spit it out

That would be nice.

I’ve gotten to the point where I can’t learn anything
Where it’s time to go practice
Because practice makes perfect
Not classroom memorization

I’ve gotten to the point where love is not shared
In the way that the epilogue to a drunk night can be
And I can know the difference

I’ve gotten to the point where a last year
Means many other lasts
But also many firsts
And that difference keeps me running

I’ve gotten to the point
Where I can sit back and wonder
Without the heart race and slight headache:
“What’s the point?”

There’s one on my arm
From that time
You led me through the park
“don’t peek,” you said
I peeked.
I’m still sorry

There’s a bunch
All over my hands
Because someone held them
When I was crossing the street
I looked down
And not only saw my feet
But

I saw one from the time yours fell on mine
We were dancing
Drunk with eachothers’ love
And drunk by wine

But mostly drunk because
That’s the only way to be
When among friends

There’s one
I wish wasn’t there
From a time when “no”
Meant “fine”
And fine it was not

And one more on my face
A river pushing through earth
eroded
From too much use
Or not enough

I gather them sometimes
Give them a good look.
Remember them.
Then forget.
Remember
Forget
Consider
Ignore
Remember.

You and me
Only just me
Just you
Present only in ink and paper
Ink in pen the potential
for misinterpretation
For joy
For just you to become just you and me
Or just you wanting me
Me wanting you is
Slowly but surely
With each mailbox crawl
Becoming an empty pen
No more to say except
“Hows the new job?”
Ink drying up
And scrawled:
“Hope you’re doing well.”
I’m not
but
I will be
I will be
A pen with new ink
Ink for someone
Someone that’s not you
I will be
Over it
I will be.

How dare you force me
into your
empty worshipping
media centered
white collar suburban world

If your wallet comes with
boundless restrictions, empty and meaningless
I will set fire to your commerce
green burning red, then white, then blue

Your world was once this way
but like all things
this place is not the same
what you see has left
and what remains becomes
what I see

You tied my shoes
but
refuse to let me walk
I sneak steps
when you're not around

Yet still
feet grow restless
potential forward motion builds
builds a house of possibilities
A house far away from here

Shoes tied and ready
the dull tread becomes routine
exactly as you planned

Heaven forbid I veer to the left
heaven forbid I take off running
Running away from your green world
The world I have to run away from
The world I will spend the rest of my days running from
Your world
Gone to me
You have a choice.

Let go, or be dragged.

These words cannot escape
live in me
what I need, quite simply
is for words to flee
escape via pen, mouth
second best only to physical
more disconnect added with each middle man
gray keys
cyber space
words become code
which others cannot decode
decode my words
these words
thoughts reduced to slashes, arrows, numbers
marks on a screen telling what to do
cheapened to
lines
ink on a page
words in the mouth
a hand in mine
no words for such bliss but words assigned nonetheless
no right or wrong words
no words at all
yet somehow we need them
like something can't exist
if no words exist
Failure to say truth
failure to reality
words fail.

Talk to me
tell me what you had for breakfast
tell me what
you saw when you opened your eyes this morning
eyes of green
tell me yes
but I will hear no
"no" will become my faith
"no" is what I see
when I see you
your face
covered in your words
words like film
beatles
vinyl
cicadas
books
font
words in your handwriting
that is only yours
but is interpreted
and becomes someone else
becomes me
becomes "no"
but then "maybe"
and I hang on to this
hoping if I believe it
it becomes true
maybe if you say it
maybe if you talk to me
or with me
Talk with me.

Eat ****.
I hate that you left me
in love with you.
What am I supposed to do?
Get over it
like my feelings live in my feet.
Carry me to new places, new faces
Tie up my laces, I'm off to get over it.
You left me with this thought
You don't love me emotionally
You could love me physically
but no.
That would be wrong
because first times only come once.
How many times will I be left
when someone is afraid of the first?
I can't get a job without experience.
No experience without a job.
So I'm stuck here.
with my tied laces
Feelings in my feet
Getting over it.
And until I do, I will just keep saying
Eat ****.