dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.

Most I know want something more
What? They aren’t sure
If they knew they’d tell me
“I wanna be a Mother”
or
“I want to be an astronaut”
But they don’t know, so
I don’t know

Most I know are scared of the world
The world is going to attack them;
fall in on them, squash them
It will come as they see it
It will come as an immigrant child, or,
It will come as Donald Trump

Well I’m not afraid of these things
And if either these
Dare block my path
I’ll shove them to the side
I will get on with it
Because I am stronger than those things
My words don’t make me weak
If yours do, you’re using them wrong

I’m sorry.
My beautiful stanzas,
For not keeping in touch with you.
Somewhere along the way
I abandoned you.
And never wrote back.

I’m sorry.
My sweet verses
I have not forgotten you.
I have only forgotten the feelings in you.
And my heart can't bear to remember.

I’m sorry.
Meaningless Haikus.
I thought I could make some sense out of you.
But I will always be a few words away
from finishing you.

I’m sorry.
Untitled works.
You are amazing.
But I couldn’t give you what you deserved.
I left you raw.
Unpolished.
Unfinished.

I’m sorry.
That I scroll past you.
That I am to forgetful to finish you.
But to proud to erase you.

I’m sorry.
That while you remain
unfinished and unpublished.
I continue giving birth to
New works and
New ideas.

I will finish you one day.
Not today.
Not now.
But someday.
And until that day,

I’m so sorry.

I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.

Now I know,
This is the first time we've
                  spoke.
But, I wanna be you.
I wanna wear your skin as a
                  cloak.
In your ambiance, I will
                  soak
And when they speak my name, i'll say who?

I wanna wear your clothes as
                    mine.
I want to live your life.
I want your receding
                    hairline.
I want your growing
                    waistline.
I want to love your wife.

9-5, I'd work your
                job.
I'd love your bratty son.
In the suburbs, a faceless
               blob.
I wouldn't  be an upturned
               slob.
And when I'd sit in your car or your study, I wouldn't think of a noose nor a gun.

I wanna cry like I've  never cried before.
I wanna die like I've never died before.
Because I've died too many times
and today I'm dying a little bit more.
I do not even understand,
wish I knew why we do this kinda of stuff for.

-Everytime I think the fall will end
                                                             I fall
                                                                      a little bit
                                                                                        more.

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived