Phone calls, lonely sheets.
Warm bodies, and cold feet.
Soft touch, hard kisses.
Imposed beliefs, and forgotten wishes.
Dancing silly, writing serious.
Long distance love is thought to be delirious.
Maybe they were right, since it's done now.
Though your contour still wrinkles in my sheets somehow.
Thinking of you I can feel happy, or I can feel numb.
You left behind far too many love crumbs.

Poems aren't written,
they're found,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,

You are the moon
Dark and lonely
and looking for a friend
And I am the star
sitting right behind you
Praying for you to turn around

i dreamt of you once again-
i wish i had not woken up.

I'm living in the present.
My mind is on the past.
Not knowing what I'll lose.
Not knowing what will last.