Poem on a Faux Sunny Day

Cool people forget to open their eyes

To the fact that they have a listener

Not two paces away

Who has the memory of a mountain

Or an ancient oak.

Careening feelings make it hard to ache

For what I have missed

But at the same time, make it impossible

To pretend to be happy

And having a good day

So I won't lie to anyone.

The Listener holds on to what she hears

She corrects them in her mind

While her own emotions confuse

Who she is really alive for.

Is it poetry?

Or love?

What vague concepts can understand something

As concrete

As real

As a broken heart?

Pretend Happiness

I need to write a poem,
But I can't write one.
So I think of sea foam
And the streaming sun.
I pretend I'm far away;
I slip between the boards.
On any other day,
A song would touch me with chords,
But today I needed to write
Something to remind me
That one massive, relieving light
Will be my remedy.
Soon.
Until then I'll hold back
The frightfully heavy tears,
And I'll wait for Daniel
To smile away my fears.

American Dream

My Life
Having all the time
In the world.
Running after stars
Which shoot the sky.
Writing words that mean
More than time
Itself.

I miss you

Yeah, it's only been what...ten hours??...since I last saw you, but it seems like a lifetime.
See, I remember what it felt like to sleep against your shoulder and feel your deep breathing.
And I want to hold your hand.
So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?
Since you didn't call me when you said you would...
The problem is: it's okay.
Because "I'll love you till I die".