I wanted to call and tell you I missed you.
But your voice was much too distant
and your words were the weakest thread.
I wanted you to cry that you had missed me too.
But the small talk and how you beens just beat around the truth.
I wanted to tell you I missed you,
but instead I'll just tell you,
the cold outside has snuck in
and settled in my head.

You asked me once to write about you.
What would I write, though?
Words cannot capture your devilish grin
or the way your red hair shines.
Words can't tell of how you make me draw a breath
when you press your lips to mine.
Words do not begin to tell the story your eyes can with a simple glance.
Stories of regret and pain.
Stories that kept you from ever being the same.
I cannot find any words that would show the world
just how much you mean to me.
You are the moon and all the stars.
You light up my nights.
You are the sun, brightening my days.
You are every dream I have ever had
and every wish I have desperately whispered at 11:11.
You are more than any messy poem could ever convey.
Here is your poem, my darling.
I'm sorry it's not better, but the only words that even begin to explain how I feel are I love you.
I'm not sure how it happened, but I do.

Poetry is just taking

Fear
Pain
And anger
And forcing it into words

Poetry is simply taking

Sadness
Depression
And anxiety
And giving it rhythm

Poetry is merely taking

Worry
Love
And broken hearts
And making it a pattern

Poetry is taking these things
And writing it in blood
Pouring your heart out
And giving them life

The elements and I
Have a special connection

Earth:
I feel as though,
I am six feet under
Every day and night

Wind:
The gale's greedy fingers
Push me slowly
Toward the edge of the cliff

Water:
The strong ocean
Pushes me under
Continually

Fire:
The beautiful flames
Lick my skin
Slowly burning me to ash

I have a special connection
With the elements

The ground is cement with a small red carpet
this carpet is the pedestal the statue for trophies
upon which we stand presents the world here at hand
is the moonlight sonata of all that we gander.

Everything and more all the millions of shards and creations we make
all the lights and the cars
everything more, such a place as this is
the thickness of the air encapsulates the heart.

Something above, oh, and something within
beckons me closer to yell in the wind
something unfathomed un- guessed, yet untouched
lies opening doors for the broke and the ******.

The world here is ours if we decide it together and something above us
is guaranteed weather.
Whether or not we have everything ever,
we climb here to gander, to flit, and to tether.

We're all in a race
The race of life

It's kind of funny;
Most people try to run
Away
From the finish line
Rather than
Toward it
At least in this race

But as we all know,
The rule of racing is
That you need to try and
Get to the finish line
As fast as you can

So don't blame me for
Trying to follow the rules