Miss the crying
Miss the lies
Miss the tying binds of lives
Entwined
So forever yours,
And mine

Miss the roughness
Of masculine taste
Of feminine want
Of lust long erased
Of a smoldering fire
That we never replaced

To find something new
Is impossibility
Is there a box where you hold
My discretion, my sanity?
My illusions?
Me?

I will poke at the belly
That you used to hug
I will ponder the body that
You used to love
I will gnaw at the fingers
That you used to kiss
And I will smother the hope
That I am something you'll miss.

I wish you loads of fortune
Cashews
And grains of salt from foreign grounds

I wish you mobility
Through a sky not travelled by
I wish for you to dream and fly

Enjoy the fair food
Like it's wine
I wish for you to pass the time
With humble thoughts you won't admit
Abandon the life to which I couldn't commit
To which I fix that, bit by bit

And last of all
I wish you immaturity
The ability to love and lose, to lick you lips
To close your eyes
And choose

And I wish there was a better way
If common sense can't mend the break
Love like this is far too light
So I'll sit knee deep and drunk in history
Stroke blonde hair, and curse all night.

Correct, as the night
So make your choice, is it fight or flight?
High
As a kite
From consistency, it would only seem
That the time is ripe
Just cut it clean

Finding the bind
That will coincide between my mind
You say yours is lost, but mine is fine
A change
In pace
But there's enough sound to go round
Slow down, this ain't a race

Reaching out to teach me doubt
Gave a **** what you're about
Can't make a decent rhyme
So he punches walls
***** it all
Puts me down,
Then he's alright

It would seem only fair
If you'd touch my hair
or maybe there...
Martyr's fine,
but a downer's rare

Custody of my two feet
belongs to you, but they look at me
Say, "where to go?"
So I shift my stance, turn my lungs around
lets my lips say "I don't know."

Can't write a poem
Though a poem is my home
It's the place where I roam

If I can make things rhyme
In time in time in time
Too many syllables ****
****.
Can't think of much to rhyme with **** so
Lamb Lamb Lamb

Or I could be romantic
A rose knows how to tie bows
So it curls its toes and wrinkles its nose
Prose Prose Prose

Unfortunately, I am just me
An incomplete, awkward poem-to-be
But I persist and jot my lines
To a world where I am **undefined.

I don't know why I did what I did
The words spilled and shattered as they collided with my
Unidivided
Attention

Happiness creeps in, is hungry
Starving
Has to sneak for food
But is chased away
By an endless mood

It scoops out my heart
Leaves a gap for storage
Of all the items I have nowhere to place

My chair feels uncomfortable
As do my clothes
My skin
My teeth
My nose
My organs are closed

My body knows what it needs
But does not know the chore
It will punch holes in me and ask what
I'm waiting for.

What you're going through is normal
I don't feel normal

You have friends and family that love you and want to help you
I want him

Hurting yourself won't fix anything
That means it can't hurt anything, either

This feeling fades, it goes away
I don't want it to go away

It was a great love
It still is and I'm never letting go

I gave him everything

... Everything?

**Everything.