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Untitled 23I've written at least half a dozen
poems describing the little things.
Your keys and the way you walk.
Your hair and the way you drive.
The things we did
like cuddling real close
and being very cute.
But here's another,
because we aren't close right now.
You're sleeping in your bed made for one,
and I'm sleeping in a bed made for two.
So I'm writing a poem
to poke at loneliness and tell him to go away
he's not welcomed tonight.
And it's a poem to tell you
in words you'll never see
that it's been a long time
and nothings changed.
If the past years were erased
and I saw your face
I'd do the same thing.
I'd come up to you and say something.
I'd get your number I'd ask to see you again.
And maybe we'd still come the mutual agreement,
because that's what it was.
Maybe this time though
it'd be more of a forever thing
and loneliness would never be either of ours
Untitled 21Once I wrote poems about how I feel today
and that was a few years ago.
They were about how I missed your face
the feel of you next to me.
How I felt that we were good for each other
but we were never going to be together.
I wrote about how I missed you
and the little things you did.
I find myself relating to those poems.
You still put your keys hooked to your pocket.
Your wallet and phone,
they go in the same pocket they did three years ago.
The way you walk and the way you talk,
it hasn't changed much since then.
It had been a year and a half since I saw you last,
and it wasn't on good terms.
But the minute I was around you
I fell back in the same patterns
that I fell back into the last time.
I knew what not to do,
I remembered what you liked and didn't.
We still slept the same together
felt the same together.
We could sit in comfort,
and I could be around you and not feel awkward
or always wonder what my limitations were.
It was like we never broke up.
We've been together the whole
Untitled 20I thought about it
how you would be if you had a child.
I could imagine me
being in a hospital bed
drenched with sweat from labor
and you holding our baby girl.
A child that we had worked to create.
your whole world would be wrapped around her;
taking care of her
creating the best world for her.
But that image quickly changed
because I know there's always the possibility
that it won't be how I pictured.
You'll end up with a girl,
who's better than me in all the ways that I wish I could be.
But I still see you
in a hospital room
holding a baby in your arms and smiling
because that is the most precious thing to you.
And that's okay,
because it means you're happy with
someone that isn't me.
But you're happy,
and that's the best part of it all.
Untitled 19Today I found a paper
I said I wanted to marry you,
a boy I barely knew.
It's been five years since then
and I've gone through three other boys
and I thought maybe
maybe I'd marry each one
with varying degrees of seriousness.
Now I'm here today,
or girl for that matter.
I see no plans to marry anyone.
I see no plans to even date anyone,
because when you think you found someone
it can be exciting and thrilling.
But sometimes time changes that
and you didn't find the person that'd stay with you
for ever and ever,
but you did find someone that changed you,
and maybe that's all it's about;
I'm okay with this,
the whole looking back at how silly
It reminds me that things do change
and maybe once again I'll feel that way.
Maybe I will find someone who truly is
"the love of my life,
the person I want to marry."
Untitled 18And you sir
are the darkness
the secrets I wish I could hide.
You know all.
And I cannot hide a thing from you.
You are everything I could wish for,
and then some.
But can I have you,
that is the mystery.
I think not,
but perhaps fate has a way to change things,
and just maybe,
you will be mine some day.
With your dark ways,
and your humor
that cheers me so.
The way you listen,
the way you were around
when no one else was.
you'll be the one I'm looking for,
in all realness
you'll find someone better than me.
And you'll be the one I'm looking for,
but I won't be be the one you're looking for.
And it'll end at that.
We won't go any further.
And I'll cry out in misery,
but you'll cry out in gladness,
finally content with what you have.
And I'll be stuck,
wondering what could have been.
untitled 17I love you.
I wish the daylight to enfolded you once more,
and perhaps a thousand times more.
Because, you are the sunshine in my life,
the reason why I smile
when I am down so low that I think,
I will never smile again.
But you surprise me.
rise once more
with that smile of yours,
the warmth of yours,
everything you are,
makes me happy,
and makes me become the person I am.
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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