I want a glass of bubbles
To warm my icy throat
And thaw my tongue,
Which always seems to be too frozen
To say anything right.
And I want to chase the fire down
With your kisses.
I want my heart to slow down,
Just a little,
Enough to keep in time with my
Lazy thoughts of you.

I want to hear your voice
Like a velvet dress,
Clinging to my body
In whispers of never letting go.
And I want to feel cold again
While you go out for a smoke.

And I just want to watch you
As you tug on those **** sticks,
Looking like a kind of mystery
I could ponder over for years.

I want to watch the smoke come off your lips,
I think I’m learning to like the smell
Of your smoky clothes.
And suddenly I’m as addicted to you,
As you are to them.
And I’m jealous
Because I want to be your addiction
And suddenly I’m like a cigarette
And that’s weird.

“Are you OK?” “Yeah.”
Not really, but you wouldn't understand

“How are you feeling?” “Great.”
Terrible but I can’t tell you because you’d ask why

“Where’d you get that cut?” “Rollerblading accident.”
That’s always the perfect excuse

“Is there anything you’d like to confess to?” “No.”
Yes

“Do you regret anything?” “Yeah, going ice skating.”
Being born.

“Have you felt sad lately?” “No, I’m really happy.”
I feel sad all the time

“Why were you crying?” “Just finished a sad book.”
You don’t want to know

“What book?” “Looking For Alaska.”
The book that told the story of my life

“Are you sure you’re OK?” “Definetly.”
*Definitely not

Dandelions stand tall
   above the grass.
Inviting, daring. Brave.
    I have the energy
but not the heart
    to mow them down.
The grass rejoices.
   My conscience frowns.
My dog sleeps on.

r ~ 7/6/14

My fingertips pause
Over worn out keys
On a board that's seen
Better days, but that was years ago
When the muses were fresh,
The utterance adequate,
The language clear and precise,
The sonnets and haikus flowing
Easily from thought to tongue to finger to page.
Things have changed greatly since then.

My fingertips pause
Over worn out keys
Because some things
Are too hard to voice.
Some pains go so deep in my soul
That not even I know they exist.
Some memories so old
Of a childhood first snow
Or teenage habitual mistake
Or adolescent innocent fantasy
Have faded to a sepia-tone
Not able to be conveyed on paper.
Some experiences too personal
That sharing would ruin them forever
Because no one else could fully appreciate
What it means
To me
In my life,
Both past and future.

So silence descends
As my fingertips pause
Over worn out keys
On a board that's seen
Better days.

For how do I type out a poem
When keys have gone missing,
Like some of the pieces of my soul?

I never knew what true happiness was until my lips met yours.
I never knew how high I could fly
Until you whispered my name.
Luna. Luna.
I never knew what sorrow could really be.
Until I lost you.
You left me in a haze. Left me gasping. Wanting anything I could hold onto.
I never knew what love could be.
Until I met you. Distance so far.
Yet our hearts so close.
Is this a dream?
Or are you my last nightmare?