At times I wonder.
Do you ever
think of me.
While gazing
at the stars.
When revisiting
the past.

Or am I
just
a memory.
Long lost,
forgotten.
Buried
deep down
in the shards
of time.

sometimes i wish i could find you
like this—
seated alone in a place where you find
some sort of solitude from
the flashing lights
the loud sounds and
the brushing of shoulders with people
who you may never see again;
it’s always like this.
it seems to be fast paced and wild,
wonderful and lonely in the way you live.
so perhaps if i came across you seated this way,
in a table by the window with a cup of hot chocolate,
you would offer me a seat
and i would watch the sunlight kiss your face
and i would offer you a room in my heart,
tell you “come here, be with me,
tell me how your day went
and how you are feeling.”
and perhaps we’d share our favorite songs
and this moment of ours would feel like one
meant for the silver screen,
but it would be ours,
tucked away from the noise and the ordinary.
and perhaps i’ll be able to know you the way i wish i could:
talking over cups of hot chocolate like good old friends.
i’ll show you my world
and you’ll show me mine,
no matter how different they seem to be.

They say you're in true love
When you close your eyes
While kissing someone you love

Why yes,
I've kissed him many times
With my eyes closed
Whenever I sleep
And it is only
In my dreams

the most frustrating thing
when it comes to a writer
is when everything
every word, every letter,
isn't enough to give justice to
the captivating picture of you
in the afternoon:

soaked in sweat,
grinning foolishly,
striking up a conversation
about coffee,
and how unhealthy it is
for me to drink
three cups straight,
to stay awake,

yet the bittersweet taste
stains my lips.

it spills down my throat,
covers my lungs,
and drowns them
with the addicting aroma
of coffee beans
and lazy dreams,
until i cannot seem
to breathe,

and the only thing
i can ever do
is to spill ink
for you.

how is it with you everything feels natural and right?
I didn’t think I could find someone I could talk to
without my heart fluttering uncomfortably in my chest
like a bird locked in a cage, just yearning to be free
wanting the conversation to end

do you know my heart flutters with you--
with a strange happiness?

I always believed love should feel like a release
and not a restriction
but it was difficult when with every soul
I find absolutely no pull
no connection

tell me this--
can you feel it too?
because I’m constantly in awe of this, of you
I’m left with wonder at our intertwined existences
how suddenly it could happen,
and how surprisingly right
nothing is forced or clashing
it simply merges and flows

there are some things too wonderful
for our finite minds to comprehend
that perhaps our souls just know.