You said a man never forgets his first redhead,
What color are my eyes?

You once told me love is pathetic.
Love sounds just like you.

I’d like to write a love poem.
For tea has ceased to give me joy.
And in the past, one of the only things that has,
Has been feelings for a boy.
I know that sounds pathetic,
Like Disney commercials have seized my mind,
But sometimes focussing on something lovely as opposed to my own self-loathing,
Is the only relief I can find.
I’d like to write a love poem
And yet I know I cannot.
For the boy who sees me as nothing but a game,
Is the only one my heart has got.
I’d like to write a love poem
For someone other than him
Whose head is filled with textured thoughts,
And heart is filled with kindness, to the rim
I’d like to write a love poem
Telling of how I adore
His endless eyes, his glistening soul
But his rough edges even more.
I’d like to write a love poem,
But the more I think it through
I realize that I’ll never have anyone
To address my love poem to

your eyes could meet mine
for only half a second

and i’d end up thinking about them
for half a century

My hands weren’t sweating when I said it.
                    I will never write a love song.
It never seemed like anyone could see
past the pink
                swirly
                       fogging their eyes.

   How pathetic.

But cheerios get soggy
when I look away this long
and I wrote my first melody
because of your swirly eyes.

   They’re so much darker,
                 like rotted leaves.

And second,
                third,
(voice cracking, echoing)
      my fingertips
are splitting over these strings.

Fourth-
palpating vibrations killing the me
I’d thought furthest through.
I swear,
I wont crack as hard this time, but-

I can’t tie my shoelaces
without tearing flower petals,
so I walk around stumbling,

falling
into pretty girls.

I am physically and emotionally alone
Not only am I situated where the water
     cannot meet the land and the trees do not
          bowl and bend to the seducing of the
               seasons
But you are not here to hold my hand
Your arms do not embrace my chest cavity
     and scream for pleasure in return
I am limp and loose
My body tightens when I hear  noises that
     faintly resemble you
And I feel my heart break at the cracking
     of each passing hour
I understand it's been awhile since we've
     made love on the grass where the strands
          gently touch each open fiber of our bodies
But God I would love a second chance to
     bring you to abandonment with me
And show you how lovely being alone can
     almost
          be