I realized, looking into her eyes
In a picture
In a room
In my mind
That I never gave her a chance

She deserves better

And every time I think of her,
I want to be that

We forced it
And ****, was it hot
But I'm not about to lose her
And in order to keep her
We need the parking break

It's time to stop putting pressure on us both
And just be
Be friends
Be loving
Be spiritual
Be understanding
Be strong and weak
And be with and without

There's a serenity in the days
I miss her so dearly, but I know now
How much I needed this
How much we needed this

I am in a relationship, contrary to electronic letters
and words

I pray about you often
Just about every time I pray, honestly
And the thought of you with another man makes me physically ill
I almost can't imagine it

I love you more than I can put into words
And simply for the sole reason that you are
Who you are

POETRY IS NOT PUBLISHED IN A BOOK
OR SCRIBBLED IN A JOURNAL.

IT IS NOT COMPOSED OF STRICT METER AND RHYME,
STANZA AND STRUCTURE,
ASSONANCE AND ALLITERATION.

POETRY IS NATURE.

POETRY IS NON-SEQUITUR.

POETRY IS THE WAY OUR HIPS AND LIPS
INTERTWINE LIKE GRASPING VINES
WITH DETERMINATION AND GRACE
THAT IS SIMPLY DIVINE.

POETRY IS THE WAY YOU WAKE UP ON A LAZY SUMMER SUNDAY MORNING
AND LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF YOUR LOVER
LYING NOT TOO FAR AWAY.

POETRY IS THE COMPASSION AND SELFLESS DESIRE
THAT CAUSES US TO BUY MEALS FOR STRANGERS
AND TIP EXTRA JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT.

POETRY IS THE FACT THAT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US IS ANOTHER INFINITELY RANDOM MANIFESTATION OF THE UNIVERSE ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND ITSELF THROUGH CONVOLUTED COSMIC INTROSPECTION.

POETRY IS THE WAY THAT THE STARDUST FLOWS THROUGH OUR VEINS AND THE LIMITLESS POTENTIAL OF HUMAN CREATIVITY HIDES JUST OUT OF SIGHT BEHIND OUR EYES.

POETRY IS THE WAY THE WISE WINDS BLOW SOFTLY THROUGH THE TREES, WHISPERING SECRETS TO ANYONE WHO WISHES TO HEAR.

POETRY IS THE WAY THE RIVER LOVINGLY EMBRACES EACH AND EVERY PEBBLE IN THE RIVERBED LIKE A MOTHER HOLDING HER NEWBORN SONS.

POETRY IS ORGANIC.
MALLEABLE.
THESE WORDS ARE NOT POETRY -
LIFE IS POETRY.
DEATH IS POETRY.
LOVE -
LOSS -
STRIFE -
SUCCESS -
POETRY.
WE ARE POETRY.

this music sends electric
chills
down
my
spine
in all of the ways
i
wish
you
would

the bittersweet refrain
of your voice saying my name
is my favorite melody in the world

the lights in your eyes
illuminate my world
like the pulsing strobes ignite the dance floor

my heart beats at exactly
one hundred and forty
beats per minute
whenever you enter my field of view

the song of my life is really only
half written
without you

I look into the mirror
and do not recognize the man I see
once caged like a bird,
I have finally been  set free.

"Who are you?" I ask my reflection.
It simply answers, "Me."

I've grown new branches,
offered up fruit,
like a virile hazel tree.
Now I refuse to be chained,
ruled by any arbitrary decree.

I have risen from the dust.
Shaken off all the debris.

My fingers have become webbed,
gills adorn my neck,
and I begin my sojourn towards the sea.

Apart from any zealotry or wizardry,
apathetic to any bourgeoisie,
I look towards the future
utterly filled with glee.

i have forgotten how it feels
to have your fingers interlocked with mine
please remind me

i can't quite recall
the warmth of your head upon my chest
please remind me

i can't seem to describe
the singsong splendor with which words wander from your lips
please remind me

i have misplaced the memory
of the tantalizing texture of your lips
upon mine
please remind me

i have forgotten how it feels to be loved
please remind me