I’ve decided that this is the last thing

I will ever write for you

So I will try to make it count.

You deserve more than the unread scribbles

Of an unremarkable poet

And I’m sure you will receive more.

I’ve realized that I care too much for you

Because in the end, these poems are for me

More than they are for you.

You will not see them,

For I will not show you

But in my heart I know, and that is enough.

This is not the best thing I have written for you

But I smiled at you yesterday and you smiled back,

So it doesn’t matter.

It is time to let you go,

In fact, it was time to let you go a long time ago,

But I remained hopeful.

This poetry does not flow,

Does not rhyme as I hoped it would

But neither did we.

I curl into the night

Without bones

Slide off my chair

Without my spine

I close my eyes and drift away

Without a thought

I disappear into the woodwork

Without color

Almost a person but not quite

Without a soul

he was born in the summer

and lived in the sea

floated away into the sunset

in a coke bottle with me

we saw the whole world

from our glass boat

held on during the hurricanes

and tried to stay afloat

only after the hundredth storm

and another brush with death

did I realize that that if he died

the grief would take away my breath

one day we washed up on shore

and as we stepped onto the land

he let go and walked off until

all that was left was his footprints in the sand

the sadness hit me like I knew it would

but to my surprise, I did not die

I held my head up and walked away

only when December came did I let myself cry

the tears froze on my cheeks

and I put them away for a rainy day

I smiled at the sun and thanked her for the warmth

and she told me that it would be okay.

Sometimes when I’m by myself
I imagine me with you
Running off to far off lands
With so much left to do

We rule the world with iron fists
And giggle behind closed doors
We ponder the meaning of our dreams
And what we were made for

We steal hotels and sleep in jewels
And stare up tall skyscrapers
Staring off into infinity
In this town made of paper

Then I see you and I say hello
You didn’t hear or answer back
I don’t mention our adventures
Because of the confidence I lack

I’ve fallen in love with the idea
Of you as a perfect person
The more intricate I spin this tale
The more my affliction worsens

You aren’t the one who comes with me
To distant far off places
You’re two very different people
With very similar faces

But I let myself imagine
That beneath your boring shell
The swashbuckling endearing daredevil
Lies inside as well

If the crushing weight
of your existence
ever gets you down,
try thinking about
the planet you call home.
Realize everything you endure,
it has endured worse,
a billion times over,
since before you existed.
Then, your massive insignificance
cancels out how important
you think you are,
and for a while,
you understand
how it feels to be a cloud suspended
between a great everything
and a vast nothing
confused as to which is which.

A photograph in a library book 
That someone used as a bookmark
A picture of two little girls 
Forgotten between pages 72 and 73

Maybe they're sisters
Maybe best friends 
Maybe they're not little anymore 
Maybe they're no longer friends 

Distracted by the story behind the picture 
That single moment of joy 
Captured in bright kodak colors
Interested me more than the story

Was it taken to be developed 
Then used to hold a place in a book? 
Maybe they never finished reading
Or perhaps they just forgot.

The little girls are at the beach 
Holding hands, running into the waves
Oblivious to problems in the world
I wonder if they are as happy as they look. 

I decide to tuck it back in the book
Keeping it feels like stealing 
That memory was not mine to have 
So I return the book, picture inside

Maybe they'll come looking for their picture 
Or someone else will find it
And think up their own story
Maybe it will end up discarded

The novel long forgotten,
I remember the photo instead  
The picture's story overshadowing
That of some far off fantasy land.

I want to be more than
A stranger you smile at when you can  

I don't want to be 
A face without a name, a landmark you sometimes see

But I don't want to hold your hand 
walking through the waves across the sand

I don't want to hug and kiss 
Or be the only one you'll ever miss

I don't want to be your wife
Buy a house and car to start life

I don't want to be there until the end 
All I want is to be your friend.