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you made me miss the train in my dream: my fault for staring so long
i walked home alone that day, in the rain
singing some stupid tune to myself

did you think of me?
sitting there in contemplation, aside those ever-clear windows
did you look for me?
like i look for you in the morning commute and math before recess and anywhere everywhere in that sprawling liar we call memory

i know you didn't
but truly, it's fine
you will someday
when i muster up my courage and take that big leap

yes, w.

i would leap in front of a train if it meant you looked at me for just one second

or at least i would in the dream

but really, i'm so scared
scared of your acknowledgement, scared of your indifference
scared of your love, scared of your hatred
most of all scared that i might die without you ever having cared

so i wait and ponder and rot away
and course toward that cruel fate i so dread
such is reality

but not my fantasy:

w., i hope i get hit by a train in your dream
an old 'love letter'. but that train has already departed
sometimes i think of myself as an angel in the bathtub
a hazy, glowing figure
beautiful beyond mortal comprehension
so that their faces turn to stone
perhaps that's my excuse for why they don't look at me

but you looked at me
and let me float in the steamy stuff of fantasy
yet it all condensed to the end

when it flows again it shall be with my tears
poem 3 of the 'streams of longing series'
fragrance lingers after rain as rot lingers after new dawn
i knew you once and more but never enough
and we loop over and over folding and converging and haunting me into the abyssal distance of time
and now i sink
but i promise
i never forgot your scent
Poem 2 of the 'Streams of Longing' series
distant recollections
of the sun beneath the ripples
pulsing, surging, breathing
please don't let me drown

I shall sleep as long as these strings bind
but when I wake
will you still be there?
Poem 1 of the 'Streams of Longing' series
Hold me at the tip of your tongue
And speak not, intimately
In suspension of that trembling scaffold
Lest it crush our unsaid space

Touch me the right way
And say the wrong nothings
That in ambivalence I may stray
To some mistaken grace

**** me over in your dream,
Lay me out, exposed,
And carry out your shrouded theatre
Recompense for your absence in mine

And gently, in your tangled strings of pathos
Tie me at the cusp of your love
Hello HePo. New to Hello Poetry but started writing poems last year, some of which I've dug up and posted. This is my most recent.

And yes, I can't get over myself

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