I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

the wrong one
will find you in peace
and end up leaving you in pieces

only the right one
can find you in pieces
and guide you to peace

if you were to ask someone else what your
hair color is, they’d say ***** blonde.
i never understood why they called it that,
because to me, your hair is golden.
it’s golden when it’s shining in the sunlight,
it’s golden when your arms are wrapped around me,
it was golden when you left me.
when you packed up all of your belongings
and left the cottage that we built together in my heart.
it’s vacant and deserted, and i am silently
begging for you to please come back.
when you left me, your golden hair left you,
replaced by a midnight sky that i wish
i could be the stars of.
i love the new hair, it looks absolutely
beautiful on you. i wish i could tell you that.
i wish that i could be the golden star
shining the brightest within your sky.
but i am sure that i burned out.
and as much as i hate to say this,
you deserve a sky full of stars
that will shine better than i ever could have.

so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.

How do I convince you to love me?
I can make you tea and cookies
Or maybe mac and cheese
I can learn a song for you when you're feeling blue
I can kiss your neck and whisper why I want to be with you
I can wash your sheets and make your room neat
I can make your favorite snack
And if I do these things for you
Will you love me back?