your glasses slip down
the bridge of your nose
and your slender hands
turn pale around the steering wheel.
i wonder what you do
when you are alone,
what you think about as you
drive aimlessly
through the city and
through my mind.
i wonder if your presence here
was premeditated or
a happy accident
like those days when you
drive wherever feels right.
i want to know how similar
the contents of you are
to myself, and
i want to know the processes
and the dreams
and the fears
behind those frames,
behind those eyes
that you hide.
to you, im cool
but to me you are
a mystery;
you are pandoras box
and im the willing fool
whose curiosity got the best of them.

words get trapped in my throat
but they flow fluently
through my finger tips;
i would rather get carpal tunnel
than die of asphyxiation.

secret rendezvous in a truck bed
gazing at the stars and at each other
watching and waiting
for whatever
pure and warm.
our fate has been decided and
we are doomed from the start but
every day with you is a new
adventure
mystery
spontaneous burst of life
just how they do it in the movies.

did I ever really love him? its been almost three months
since I’ve seen him and he feels like a ghost.
my memories are washed out, and they all feel like
they happened years ago
or didn’t happen at all.
I read everything
I’d ever written to him or about him
and I do not remember even picking up the pen.
did I ever really love him?
or did I let him grow inside of me
like a virus and then flush him out of my system,
never to be seen again?
maybe he was a sickness, and maybe he crawled
inside of me to use me as his home
until he got bored
or I got wiser.
did I ever really love him?

we will get ****** up
say words we should not say,
then we will make out
and lay in bed all day