I called my mom
To ask if this is normal
Ive been with you
For 3 months
And im sorta infatuated
And i like you more everyday
And i admire you
But i dont love you yet
Everyone says thats normal
But love has always hit me like a freight train
And im wondering how much time
I should spend waiting on the track
With you
What if it never comes
My mom just reexplained insanity and said
And how have those frieght train loves
Worked out for you?
Fair point

He drives a white I've-a-complex sports car,
and wears a jersian leather jacket,
and a tough guy accent.
He ambles, bow legged,to the box office.
The ******* his arm has a kind voice
And gently lit eyes, like flickering candle light.
She ventures a question.
His dismissive tone comes harsh
to her hopeful ears.
I watch the light fade,
Like the candle is in its 7th hour,
now burning low,
and the power, is still out.

Ive written at least 168 poems
since july 1st of this year
Ive written 64 since our third date in September
Which is when I started writing about you,
and at least 54 of them have been about you,
and I wish that didn't sound crazy.

You said I was like the mist
an intangible impermanent thing
destined to fade at sunrise
you are wrong I am, and have always been, the bomb
the cloud of nuclear smoke
ushering in winter
leaving the strong
I am the forest fire
I remake the world
blacked in fall
pale green in spring
I shape, I do not fade
but you wouldn't know
you couldn't feel fire
when it touched your soul.

Im sorry I didn't protect you
When they told me.
When you were just a little thing
Just turned 3
And they discoved the wolf
That prowled the woods
That you came crying about
But they did the strangest thing
They pulled its teeth
Then kept things quiet
And set it free
And let you still wander
The woods alone
I see it in your wide haunted eyes
You are only 9 years old
And they are right
You wont remember...
Untill you are 22 sitting in a therapists chair
Trying to figire out whats wrong with you
And they'll ask about your child hood
And youll think about the nightmares
You used to have
And youll realize they were real
I have friends now
Who are like you
And I am so sorry
I didnt make sure the wolf got put down
But I was only a child too.

There are bumble bees
In the wires of my mind
Buzzing and *******
Somewhere behind my cerebral cortex
And my hypothalmus
They make my brain go fuzzy
With drops of honey (or is it a sting)
When you kiss me.
All the receptors bloom open like nectar laiden flowers
I can almost see my mind as a forest clearing
In early spring
With pale green stems
And periwinkle flowers and yellow blossoms
This place is precious
And long forgotten
I wish i could show you
Like photo albums in child hood
Its so hard now
To clear my brain on paper
But its getting better.

I want to say this so badly
It burns my tongue
like too hot tea
swallowed greedily in early morning
and freezes like the cold coffee in the cup
when I get distracted by talking to you
I know you know I write you poems
I've written poems for many
but you I want to say simple words to
I want to speak plain
and the more I know
the deeper the desire
Yet my tongue is still.
I'm not uncertain
but I'm afraid of your reply