Have I ever
Dreamt of her?
Well
She was in my dreams
But no,
I haven’t.
Because the real her
Is much better
Than any dream replacement.

I headed towards the kitchen
And there my brother stood
Struggling to mix something
Stirring so fast he let go and shook his arm
“Hey,” he called, motioning me over
Once I got there he asked me
When the consistency would be right
I said it would take awhile by hand
So we stood in the kitchen together
Taking turns stirring
Until the meringue grew thick
But just not right
We stirred for an hour to no avail
Having switched bowls twice
And using an electric whisk instead
We laughed as our parents walked in
Wondering what the ruckus was about
And insulting our terrible work
But despite our fail we baked it
And what came out
Wasn’t just our ****** meringue
But one of few memories
That we made together

The other day
I overheard
Someone ask
“Who would like poetry?”
And I thought
“Yeah, who would?”
As I stared at my phone
The screen lit up
With the countless words
Of the poems I wrote
Why do I like it?
I was never good with words
Yet I continued to type
And I spend my time
Making poems of her
And of life
And of friends
I suppose I like poetry
Because it’s the only way
I can get these words out.

My heart so hard of feeling
Has cast its hook to sea
A force pulls as it’s reeling
Going further away from me.

The line that held my precious hook
Has snapped between the force
What was once open like a book
Is now love unclear and coarse.

I wanted to believe
That we could be happy together
You and I
We could be lovers
Lovers intertwined
Tied together by fate
Because my heart
Longs for you
But your heart
Longs for someone else
And so far
I have no chance
Being with you