A poem about coffee
How cheap
How over used
A poet speaking on coffee
Is like a politician making a promise

But this is where we live
Our inner self brought out by consuming
Coffee, *****, drugs, love....

Pick your poison and get writing.

Have you ever loved someone so much
You could no longer look at them?
Afraid that if you did,
They'd catch the emotion in your eyes?

This isn't a poem like that, not really
There was no brush of fingertips and long sideways glances
He is not the sun, and I am not the earth
But we could be meant to be

He is not an angel, He does not fly on wings made of music and
He does not leave ****** footprints across golden landscapes
He is not the best thing to happen since sliced bread,
Hell, he's not even the best thing to happen to me

And yet,
Here I am writing yet another poem
About the way I don't let myself look at his eyes
And who needs more words about how arms feel like home
When it could just be that you haven't been held in a while

Who needs metaphors about butterflies
When in reality it's just an excuse for hesitation
A fallacy-filled reasoning to not take a chance
And some sick culmination of a lack of self worth

I can give you reasons that I love him,
I can give you clues that he loves me,
I can give you explanations, similes,
Excuses for why I've done nothing,

But why even bother with that?
What is the point of waxing poetic about a boy
Who I will never make a move on
And who will never make a move?

Spoiler Alert,
There isn't one.

I can see your heart
Beating in my dream
Pumping harder and faster
About to burst at the seam
Eyes practically made of laughter
And your psychotic smile
With a voice I can feel,
Deep in my soul
Carrying for miles and miles
You made everything real,
Become nothing I've known
You're a ghost of a previous life
Slicing into my sleep
With a double edged knife
Silently waiting to strike
Yet, you always seem to disappear
Just before the final blow
With nothing to see or hear
And no where left to go
I drift off into my mind
A mass of blank space
With no way to rewind
Travel to another place
Or any other time
The distance between falling
and finally waking
Is immeasurably long
Because
This dream has become a nightmare
And not only are you gone
But you were never really there

I only hear you
When you dont say anything
I only see you
When you're not here
I only feel you
When you're not around
And now i cry
Cause i know you're hellbound

i turn around,
pretend i don't see,
and then i forget
about it.

as simple as that.

i know i'll die
alone. we all do.
me, i will not know
if i have lived.

that's hell, they say.