love

I hope you get enough sunlight

bailing out when it gets too hard
I stare at the doorway
step outside
look up at the pines
I’m not apart of it
never will be
he told me
he would
do anything to spend
another night with her
made me feel
stronger there
is no breaking
another night
with her
the only place to ask
if they’re
falling out
become accustomed to
hearing these placeholder
digs lifting
me
hovering over
the cerulean blue couch

and then it started raining

Before boarding the plane
my step-dad gave me some sudden advice
“Don’t accept free food samples”
I suppose being poisoned
is a fear that I had yet to acquire

but at last here it is

I sipped from a glass of wine
elegantly placed
between a marble statue and concrete

on the third sip, I found myself upstate
in the closing part of winter

there I was, staring at the ceiling fan
trying to convince the man in the red wool sweater
to paint over
all of the thin black lines
I had painted on their door

Bird of paradise

You know when
you are around a similar soul,
kindred spirits,
because of the calm that surrounds them.

When you see them
it’s almost
as if you feel lighter.

I was making my way up to the laundry room,
with a full bladder and overall discomfort,
towards myself and to life in general.
My flip flop was also causing me great pain.

Unexpectedly and
Effortlessly
I saw him making his way through the woods.
I looked at him and then painfully
opened the laundry room door.

Someone in the laundry said hi to me,
but I wasn’t present.
I see him and I feel like I’ve seen a ghost.
I guess I’m seeing myself in another human,
which is always a rude awakening.

His voice strikes a familiar chord in me.
I just can’t pinpoint it.
Scientifically, logically,
and
rationally speaking,
some men just have attractive voices.

As I was deeply thinking about birds,
and what faces people find attractive,
I entered a room with such a gentle energy.
One that was familiar,
for the lack of a better word.
The bend of the spine,
to be closer to the sink,
washing his hands, eyes turned inward.

I fall in love with people too quickly.

Nothing that I could say

You are what you underline,
what you bookmark,
you are the songs
that bring the past to the present,

the first thing you do when you get home,
the last thing you say to your dog before you leave,
the shoes you wear out,
to their final thread

the things you observe are valuable,
don’t feel that your view of the world is wrong,
it’s different

Love is often
one sided,
if it is double sided,
it’s uneven

words will never
translate the heaviness

I am still dissecting you,
every eye movement,
the pattern of your speech,
as if trying to come to a conclusion
in my favor

This is what led to my break,
I wanted so badly to have you
that I made it happen in a dimension
unknown to others,
my imagination.

Love is an act of madness

Last day of February

It is the last day of February
and I am lacking inspiration.

Months seem to go by
with no trace of productivity.
Oh well.
What should I do?
I know,
I should take on a new perspective.

A fresh one.

One free of insecurities and worries.

Let go of all of the thoughts
that don’t serve me anymore.
And there are many.

Isn’t terrible how people fall in love,
unreciprocated is the best kind.

Next month, I will be more productive.
Even if
the hoped for,
dreamed of,
results
aren’t reciprocated.

Good guy

I know for certain
that you are a good guy.

Good,
under the standards
of a romantic comedy.

The notebook level
of romance

An elaborate fabrication,
produced by
a hopeless romantic.

I was never a believer
of such a popular
myth.

Good,

the kind of guy I tried to avoid.

Good,

I can bring you home
without shame.

So good,
my mother likes
you more than me.

Too good,
my mother says I should be more grateful
that I have at
last
found a good guy.

Is this a one sided
good?

Selfie

This one is for the hard to love
the complicated souls
the difficult personalities
the ones that are rough around the edges

Although you are a traveling circus
of a human, with
a juggling act of a personality
whose socks never match

and whose hair is in a constant
disarray

You are kind

The genuine lines of compassion
frame your eyes

This isn’t egocentric, narcisstic, or selfish

This is your own version of a selfie
and you need this to understand
your greatness
that is often unseen
by your own soul

Puzzlebook

Write about old man w/ fedora and crossword puzzle book
is a note
that I scribbled on my hand
frantically and emotionally after leaving the beach.

Well you see, I was writing away at Starbucks when
I then decided to head over to the beach.
Bored.

I sat down at a picnic table to take advantage of the shade
since I had forgotten my aviator sunglasses.

I sat there,
staring at the glittering ocean and
in the middle
of a sentimental thought,
sat down an older man in a fedora and a book full
of crosswords.
I immediately liked him and he soon left.

As I was leaving the beach, I noticed that
he was also leaving the beach.
But what grasped my attention and sentiment,
his hands were in his pockets
and he was looking at the ground as he walked.

The walk felt so familiar
I had to write it
on the palm of my hand.