tapping my feet.
drumming my hands on my knees.
smiling and nodding to your story
while making quick glances at the clock.
its nearly at the 40.
twenty minutes
till i can leave
without looking inpolite
your words, they bore me,
your sweet talk annoys me.
i'm sorry i'm wound so tight.
i value our friendship
but you just want to sit and flirt,
while i want to sprint and drive dangerously fast
and scream, and feel alive.
Your talking has stopped.
your eyes fixed on mine, waiting.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
i snap out of my trance and look at you
"only that I love you"
i don't know why.
why you take that risk.
and say that to me
maybe i really don't know you
i look down at my hands, then back at the clock, which is now at the 52.
my foot stops tapping as i look into your eyes.

           maybe i love you too.

I was a child of the river. Always living within walking distance of the restless water, the uneasy docks, and the anchors that kept the boats steady. Even as the current smacked against the starboars, the sailboats would waiver but never fall. I admired their tenacity. A child of the river: strong but restless; the anchor and the starboard; a suburban sadness-- a yearning for something beyond the river, but too weighed down to sail. A child of the river, stuck in a stagnant town.

See, my hands do this thing
when I'm nervous
bored
upset.
They tend to play,
to pinch and wiggle,
to rub my clothing together.
I bounce pencils,
I click pens.
And, please,
don't even get me started on
tapping.
Now, these are all bad habits,
carried out, unnoticed, by
restless hands.
But my favorite bad habit
is running my fingers through your hair
or maybe down your arm
or holding your hands.
But they aren't bad habits,
not then.
In those few moments,
my hands are doing
Exactly
what I want them to.

It's only at nights when I start feeling lonely
Only at nights when it gets overwhelming
I miss those nights, so real, so true
I miss those times it was just me and you

I still cry to sleep almost every night
I wish you were here to hold me right
Sometimes in my dreams, I'd see you there
Almost as though you're real, I swear

When I dream of you, you seem so far
Missing you has left me a big scar
I called out your name but got no reply
Still I shout, until my throat goes dry

I don't hear your voice of comfort no more
But I shut people out, closing that door
I don't need them for you were all I need
Yet, in reality, who do I kid?

We used to dance under the moonlight
We'd look up to the starry night
A part of you will always have my heart
You light up my world even in the dark

I miss the times you'd hold me tight
And kiss my forehead after every single fight
I loved the way you made me happy
And showed me things I never could see

I miss those hugs and I really miss that smile
I miss the way you drove me crazily wild
Thinking of you used to help me get through
Now thinking of you just makes me feel blue

I lay awake at nights, wondering, what if?
Because right now I'm falling off a cliff
What if you were still alive and well?
You'd be able to pull me out of this hell

Memories of us now seemed like a nightmare
I'd wake up and find myself gasping for air
You're taunting me, you're making me feel weak
Stuff my mouth in my pillow to muffle my shriek

I hate feeling like this, hate what you did
It's not your fault still I blame you for it
I can't sleep because I'm afraid you'll appear
And just when I reach out, you'll disappear

There's this hollow feeling I feel now
You're not here to keep me safe and sound
Hypnophobia is the fear of sleeping
For when I try, I feel like I'm choking

I’m tired but I can’t seem to sleep these recent nights, your name is on every corner of the city and all I think about is us.

I need sleep. Maybe I would with you next to me, listening to you as you breathe in stardust slowly the moonlight kisses your skin I just want to watch you light up the room past midnight.

I want the ocean to feel jealous that the moon is sleeping next to me tonight.

and although I've come to
admire the heavy bags
under your chestnut eyes,
I hate to think of the demons
that keep you restless
through the night.

you are what keeps me sane
and gives me peace during
the long summer nights,
I just wish I could repay the favor.

{hjl}

A cursed affliction of the heart

A human condition that drives us hither

And thither chasing a ghostly calling

On a restless search for mirages



We are all actors

Playing our role

Said a great sonnet writer

We use to quote platitudes



But what of those who wander

A crossroad of diverging futures

Where one role does not satisfy

Their boundless hopes and desires



A poet one moment

A grave digger the next

Who shovels mud in the darkness

And finds meaning in the light



A role fit for a novel maybe

Or at least a bad play

Starring unknown faces

Gesticulating to an empty theatre



Some find solace behind the pages

Of a tattered copy of  Crime and Punishment

Leading a vicarious life of alcoholics and whoremongers

And some become what they don’t read



Blessed is the mind whose devotion

Is pure, untainted by the spectre

Of what is and what could be

Charting a singleminded road that plods on



To heights heavenward

To places unexplored

In a narrow field of vision

Towards a sunlit horizon



And not be stuck in the bogs

Of indecisive action

Of halfhearted measures

In a dreary haze of possibilities



But it’s only a cosmic joke one would say

For why did the Almighty in his wisdom

Make a world so vast and beautiful

Our ambitions so conspicuously lofty

And our fleeting lives so very inadequate?

c'est la vie

another day sacrificed...

another holiday alone.