I hate the idea
that if I had given out better answers -
the honest answer
The one that would leave them speechless
the one that would have left them
more grateful for their fruits than before,


but instead,
I took a second to reflect
took a second to compare
- Others have had it tougher
and out of my mouth, I said
"I don't know, I think I've had it pretty easy."

Tennis
all with it's premise

waiting for the hour to arrive
so that you can transcribe
all your problems onto me

Now that the clock strikes lonely
and I wait  patiently for the season
to love someone again

No calling it out
No calling it quits
No keeping score
just serving over the fence
to someone who's not always on defense
to someone who brings some sense

Who is the audience of our thoughts
when flooded by speech?

Who is the audience of our words
threaded through the needle of interpretation
sewn into a poem of subjection
when we all have something to say?

You can keep him
him and inconsistency
him and his unthoughtfulness
him and confusion
him and contradictions

you are made for each other
he can keep you
you and your suspicious communication
you and your close relationship with his best friend
you and the way you left him talking
you and your floral prom dress
you and his matching tie

you were the best year of his life,
weren't you?
"at least we don't hate each other," he thinks
oh, but doesn't he know
how clever you can be.

Like clockwork
couples go through seasons
truth and foolishness
adaptation and distress
Talking stage
to situationship
to dating

to not.
Fall, Winter
Spring, Summer
Warm kisses
Cold shoulders and tears
Forever and ever
turned into never

Disturb my peace
Wake me from my sleep
Snooze me during my awake

So much to ponder about
with so many hours of the sun
So much to churn
with so few hours of the moon

Scattered thoughts
Lost time
Concentration adieu
Light jog for the mind
that's used to the marathon