seeing headlights
pass by
and watching the shadow
dance on the walls
reminds me of
lazy summer days
at the lake house.
in the upstairs room
where i would lay next to you
on the big white bed.
we would go downstairs and
have a cinnamon roll
or two.
then splash around
in the lake all day with
the mud in our toes
water around our ankles
scrapes on our knees
cold water in our belly buttons
life jackets pushing
against our chests
and the hot sun
baking our soft skin.
back then
the days were like months
but everything got fast
once we changed grades.
the days were like hours.
i was too busy
to watch the shadows
dance on the walls.
i woke up alone
ate a bowl of cereal
and saw you in class.
no more mud
no water
no scrapes
no life jackets
no sun
but every moment filled
to the brim with
the feeling
of a crush.
hazy daydreams in math
vivid fantasies in english
wild hopes in art
always on your team in gym.
back then
the days were like hours
but the hours were filled with you
and now my hours are
empty
desperately trying
to find someone who
i can compare to you.
the shadows
don't dance on the walls
in my room anymore
but when i see them somewhere else
i think of you.

What would you do if we disappeared together,
into a bed.
Where no one would miss us.
Where your sweet kisses could
meet my mornings.
Where my lazy days could
meet your fingers.
And we could fall into love over and over again.

It is a cold friday morning
and the sun isn't rising
I am on my bed doing nothing
The whole day is so boring...
I decided to take a zip of coffee
And a bit of bread to fill my tummy
I sat down and turned on the TV
And watched one theatrical movie,
This is how I spend my day
Sleeping, eating, watching all day
And if you think I had nothing to say
You're probably right, we'll put it this way...
I am just boring so I wrote this poem,
Do you think its nice? Don't get me wrong,
I have a lot like this, much better and long,
Some are Stories, Quotations and Song.
Now if you want to follow me,
To see my works and poetry...
Just leave a message or talk to me,
So you can join my World and Fantasy!

©2017 John Vincent Obiena. All rights reserved.

I’m damaged goods, baby
Or did you forget?
Loose-leaf paper crumpled and discarded,
Like every poem I couldn’t bring myself to finish.

This girl comes with a lifetime guarantee
of cynicism and constant apologies
and selfish laziness.
For a low price of only commitment and patience,
you can become proudly entangled in my dysfunction and  constant need for reassurance.

You didn’t receive me shiny and brand new
I have mileage, and I’m not afraid to admit
That most of it is self-inflicted.
I have scars that tell stories
and a schema that has been shaped
by 22 years of poor judgment
and never feeling good enough.

And I can’t help but wonder,
what it would be like if I was stable and motivated.
Would you still get frustrated
when I lay in bed until 3 in the afternoon?
Would I be able to accomplish
all of the seemingly simple tasks
that always feel larger-than-life to this pint-sized girl?
Would you love me more?

I’m jaded, baby
and I think sometimes you forget
that when I’m putting on a face
and trying to be less of a disappointment,
I’m still made of fragmented parts
that have been glued back together
one too many times.