Like trying to swim in a desert, I have been trying to forget you.
Obviously, it's not working.

When I was growing up my mother would say " It's okay not to try if you know you're fail miserably, but you can try it just for the experience."

So I did.

I spent hours reading books, familiarizing myself with characters that seemed a lot like you; impulsive, stubborn, witty, and sarcastic.
Can you see the similarity?

After deducing that books weren't the answer, I turned to the internet.
Sadly, this was a bust as well.
Every cat picture I saw reminded me of Star, the cat who ran away.
Yes, this was your cat.
I can't imagine why she would leave.
Honestly, CAN YOU READ THE SARCASM?

My last attempt at forgetting you was filling my head with meaningless facts.
Did you know that penguins have knees?
Yeah. You told me that.

Anyways, I decided that there was just no staying away from you.
My mind was like a private detective, subconciously tracking you down, searching for any type of clue that would lead me to you.
Don't ask me why I end up next to you everyday.
I honestly don't know.

But sometimes, I can see my train of thought leading me to you and it never crosses my mind to come to a screeching halt.

Maybe it's because I want to crash into you.
Or maybe it's because I want you to meet me halfway.

Feelings fade like old coloured tattoos.
I have never been so afraid in all my life.
I want you to chase me.
I want you to need me like I feel my growing need to be near you.

We’re comprised of drunken nights and bathroom rendezvous.
Of my own inadequacies
Of my own insecurities,
And of the desire I feel in you.
I haven’t wanted anything this bad in longer than I care to remember.

Your laugh is the air I’m breathing,
Your touch is the beating of my heart (which I, more often than not, feel in my ears when you’re present.)

Chasing out your shape in the darkness,
Pressing myself that little bit closer,
Hyper aware of the distance between us and wondering if there is any way that we could stop ending and just completely flow together.
My hands searching for your every curve,
And I am drowning in them,
In the perfection that makes you a complete human being.

The completeness of it all,
The need is not superficial.
We’re comprised of lazy afternoons following bad days
Endless hours of cuddling and sipping tea and inhaling your scent,
Familiarizing myself with it as though it’s the most vital thing ever.
And with all the hype I’ve given you in my head it’s a glorious reality when you lean in to kiss me,
Lips moving slow and delicate,
Our noses brushing against each other with urgency mounting.

Its accurate to say you’ve changed the whole way my world spins.
The axis has shifted and I’m leaning in your direction,
My head spinning at your touch,
My fingers trembling across your naked body,
Memorizing the artwork that makes you who you are.

My bedroom floor becomes a place to scatter clothing and cups of tea.
It seems I’m never able to make it to the bottom of my mug when you’re controlling my thoughts.
I’d rather taste you over and over again.
I’d rather show you everything I’m feeling inside the best way I know how.
And it’s been so hard to just tell you what I’m feeling,
And I know you’ve struggled with the same things.

I am comprised of the way I want you for everything you have to offer.
I delight in that you are the first person in years able to cook me dinner.
I fall for your sarcastic tendencies and how you are the happiest person I’ve ever met.
I get lost when your smile lights up your whole face and the way you can never sit still.
I cherish the way that you push through the endless amounts of obstacles placed in front of you.
I relish in the things you say to me, the way you desire what I have.
I rejoice in the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on
That you’re excited by science and books,
And the way you love that I don’t objectify what you offer me.

We are the two most awkward people I’ve ever heard of,
And I want to divulge everything you have yet to show to me.
I hate the way that when we’re apart the time passes like pace of two stubborn sloths, searching each other out.
I want to breathe you in, and hold you and kiss those luscious lips,
Grab a hold of your strong hips,
And never let you walk back out that door.

You are my feeling of contentment.
You are the only one I want to lay in my bed.
I don’t see a need for us to participate in the outside world.
I want to keep you all to myself,
Because I love the way when you sleep next to me you never let me go.
I have never been so sure of anything in my life.
I’ve never been so terrified by so much happiness.
I want to feel your breathing on my neck, and the beating of your heart against my ribcage.
I don’t want you to get up and leave,
As much as I enjoy the look of your nearly naked body striding towards the light from the window.

I want you, wholly and completely.
I want you for every single thing you have to offer me.
You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.

As I was familiarizing the sulky start,
Seeking clues in my mindful halt,
I aboard my ride for another venture,
Holding my seat as script on censor,
Lost in retrospect of my past,
Heard a familiar tone at last,
He got me indulged with the queries of life,
Sharing his perspectives of life,
It seems like he has tapped into my mind,
After a chitchat, he seems to be one of my kind,
At last it was the time to say goodbye,
Leaving me reasons, for the next time to say “hi”

I close the book and sit up.
It’s been a while
since the last time I finished a book in one sitting.
Lately I haven’t had time,
so I’ve read them in parts.
Really short parts.
I’d forgotten the feel of a whole book.
It is a completely different sensation.

I close the book and sit up.
Then I stare at the back cover for a few moments
and then,
I flip it over.
Then I stare at the front cover for a few moments
and then,
I open it and close it again.
And then I take a deep breath.

I close the book and sit up.
I look around and come back to my room.
It takes a while
to get used to the change in surrounding.
I feel as though I was thousands of years away.
I forgot what it felt like to get lost like that.
It was nice feeling,
getting lost,
and then returning.

I close the book and sit up.
I look around the room,
remembering where everything was,
that part of the wall with the paint peeling away,
the stickers I put up on that side of the room when I was ten.
A fly,
which has somehow gotten in,
buzzes around the room
looking for an escape,
trying to find where the light is coming from.
This may take a while seeing as I have the curtains drawn.
It flies around getting dizzy, until I lose sight of it.
I look up at the picture of me and my best friend on the wall,
trying to remember that this is the world I belong to.
Trying to remember what my place in it was.
It’s hard to pull yourself out of a world,
your left with a bittersweet after taste
from somewhere faraway.
The taste differs from book to book.
Right now, it tastes
like peaches.
I feel slightly disoriented, and dizzy,
like the fly.
I feel washed out.
The same feeling you have after having a good cry.
Because sometimes, those are necessary.
It’s a good feeling,
satisfying and unsatisfying at the same time.


I close the book and sit up.
The curtain is wrinkled
and there is an odd yellow light shining through its translucent surface.
That’s right.
It’s sunlight.
There’s a door, and a hallway outside it.
That’s right.
It leads to the kitchen.
There is a backpack,
with papers,
and books spilling out of it.
That’s right I have a paper due tomorrow.
A test the day after that,
and after the last plunge I took I can’t afford to do badly on it.
Slowly following this pattern
of familiarizing myself with the world
I come back.

The monotonous ticking and somber creaks send chills through my skin, making my hair stand as if it was shocked awake. Each step I take, the bare skin touches the cold hard wood, freezing me. A stale taste floats onto my tongue turning it to stone but quickly warms up when a familiar scent surrounds me. The ground turns soft, my toes familiarizing themselves with the cushioned carpet. I reach out in front of me but am lost in a space of emptiness. A wall guides my hope to the side and my fingers fiddle and search for the hidden switch. Heart thumping, my index finger lightly pushes up on the friendly switch, but with a swift movement, I remain lost in darkness.

You are a decrepit home
and I am a crowbar,
familiarizing myself with your insides.
I am not rusting from the waterbed,
my skin is not tarnished.

I am strong and bludgeoning the windows,
there's blood, beneath your gums
as I swing, knock out your teeth-
this time,
I am inside of you.

Your knuckles fail,
with the first blow;
broken, unable to push down
the folds of my underwear.
I plant a bruise like a kiss
on your right cheek, erupting
into a display of consequences
for your actions.

In my dreams, I scream
your name. Under the surface, I am your messiah
with the sunrise of bruises tracing my broken rib.
I am your adam, using my pain to create
strength.

Love is the warm ocean breeze, playfully pushing hair across your face
And familiarizing itself with each individual strand.
It encompasses you in an inviting embrace:
The matching puzzle pieces to the empty spaces in your hand.
It is the rising of the morning sun after the darkest of nights.
Awaiting the warmth it brings; watching intently as it grows.
The sun committed arson, and set blaze to the sky.
A beautiful array of painted colors portrayed perfectly in ones soul.
It is the adventurous journey, not the destination.
With love, life ceases to be inert upon a realization.
You are no longer stuck standing still at a station.
It was just the beginning to an unforgettable vacation.
A fantasy to many who desire a blissful dream,
A poison that flows through the blood like streams.
A ball and chain weighing down the soul; everything's heavy,
A burden on the chest when the new morning is ready.
A heart of two sides; yet it's still only the veil of love,
A foundation that contains both deceit and trust.
Why does it sometimes end in a fountain of blood,
maybe love is sometimes confused with the shadow of lust.
A broken heart is a disaster of epic pain and hurt,
there are limited words to describe a shattered world.
A suffocating soul subjugated to the torments heart ache,
would we listen if we could hear everything our hearts say?

Is this a momentary passing?
Forgetting what you're missing,
Running and never regretting.
Looking at trees for the first time.
And thinking how weirdly alive they look.
I felt like a newly bought old book.
I kept replaying the same old scenes.
Familiarizing the pain of seeing you leave.
Everyday I lie to forget how miserable it feels.
But then I go back seeing the trees.
How those leaves move as the wind breeze.
How they come alive under the light of a tall post in the dark of the night.
Ironicaly reminding me of hope despite a dark fight.
And all of a sudden I feel my inside smiling.
I look up and saw one star in the night sky shining.
Once again I am humbled to be reminded.
There's one star in the vast of the sky still shining.
That could mean love, hope and happiness all at His proper timing.

how much can i stand
to lie down alone
cusping and gripping distractions
to hopefully randomly fall into sleep
instead of stay awoke to the gnawing sense of one heartbeat?

like liquid seeping into the well of my soul. the stagnant bayou waters that wish to deny my will to go on. infesting pathogens familiarizing itself with me only in own weakness in a muddy stench. how does one find again their love when its lost?
the impression on my chest need be filled with some one.
else my arms tatter in under-use and famine.