You think he might love you
When he recognizes the monsters in your eyes
And stays until they turn into faint whispers
On the back of your mind
Instead of running away
And leaving you behind

You think he might love you
When you catch him looking at you
A question dancing on his face
Permission reflected on yours
And your soul has never felt so exposed
As when your lips are fighting his

You think he might love you
When, late in the day, sitting on the rooftop
You look over the edge and find that
You might be falling
And you realize
He might be there to catch you if you do

It had just stopped raining
The musty smell from the
Carved wood of the swings
And the earthy scent of the
Damp sand below them
Awoke in you a nostalgic feeling
And memories started playing
Like old movies inside your mind.

A child’s sweet laughter
Filled your ears and you found yourself
Mesmerized by the innocence of
That young, boisterous voice
You had long forgotten
It sounded like your song
Played in a different key
A melody life had yet to change

You wished you could still run to mom
When you tripped and hurt your knee
Back when the only kisses that mattered
Happened when she kissed it better
Back when the only wounds you
Had to bandage were from
Falling on the playground

The movie ended and too soon
You spotted the dark clouds ahead
Gathering over you like thoughts
On comic books you used to read
You got up and left the memories behind
They stayed there like kids would
Having fun like you never could again.

You treasure hearts
Because they’re easy to love
As long as you keep
Living
I treasure minds
Because they change my world
Long after their hearts stop
Beating

If humans had wings
They’d still make the mistake
Of flying back to the people
Who’d cut them off

It’s a winter’s day
And the cold bites harder
Than his words
You wonder what made you
As fragile as the ice
Beneath your feet
As you, too, crack
Under the pressure
Break, when you’re
Stepped on
You try to make a snowball
With your calloused hands
But they’ve been through
Too many fights
And weapons can’t hold
Such delicate things
So you can only watch
As the water slips through
Your trembling fingers
Just as his love slips out
Of your troubled mind

Like unfinished work
My story has been left
Untold
And I struggle
As I have to decide
Between rereading
The pages of my past
And mourning
What could have been
Or picking up a pen
And writing a new book.