when I met you
I knew that there would
never be another you
I think of you on the daily
but alas
miles of roads separate us
my feelings are true
whether they're reciprocated
or not
there will never be another you

love is like a flame
it can make you warm
or it can burn you
love can caress you
or throw you to the wolves
love can find you your perfect match
or it can find you someone
who'll never give you their time of day

i want to find love
a love that is reciprocated
a love that is gentle and passionate
a love that picks me up
a love that is the one for me
who can laugh at my dumb jokes
who can see me for me
who can show me the good in the world

i always seem to find the love that hurts
a love that beats me down
a love that hates me for me
who only loves the idea of me

maybe this time will be different

sometimes i feel invisible
either like everyone looks through me
like i'm not there
or like they see my appearance
and don't look further

i am a person too
my identity matters
see me for me
see me in the room

i feel like an outcast
a social pariah
like i'm a wallflower

There's an old gray
cat that wanders the
neighborhood.
Neutered and wild
green eyes.
He's confident, and
thick,
doesn't trust humans
but loves tuna.
I don't blame him.
I have three female
cats that watch him through
the window, wagging their
slim tails.
He couldn't care less.

I call him Bubba.
His head is the size of
a grapefruit.
Half of one ear is gone.
I put food out for him.
He waits until I go inside
to eat it.
He's tough.
Lived a rough life.
I can tell, I've been down
some of the same
back roads as him,
slept in similar
alleys.

But no one has
taken my *****

yet.

loving you is like waiting for the spring,
the love that winds around my fingers

a stream that will fill with the most beautiful light.
when you open your eyes to my kisses,

i fill with the summer and the bright stars,
so chill with loneliness, leave.

i forget that the moon hangs like a
silver leaf in a sky of swallow's song,

while the rose that winter stole,
that died in my lovelorn arms,

left like the impressionist the water loved,
until all i could see was the dreams

of the water, and all i could feel was
the sleeping of the dark.

the saddest part of dying
is what you forgot to do
the ideas born in lucid dreams
that vanished in the hue
the mountains never seen
the oceans never crossed
the poems written on scraps of paper
a lover's smile now lost
the tears you held inside
the chances never taken
the landscape of your life
an oasis now forsaken

I'm mature at times and immature at lengths
I need to keep my tongue to go off a roll
I regret a breath later, I'll regret it till the end
So hard is to make do, my assessment calls
I need to think through it, the pitfalls
Blink and compute, what comes from the mouth
Is it true, kind and necessary?
Am I calm, steady and ready?