i miss.

i miss you.
i miss us.
i miss long nights
and good dreams;
car rides
and your head on my shoulder.
i miss the fights
and the pain
and the love
and the hate
and the fear and the loneliness cured.
i miss your eyes
and your bangs
that i couldn't stop touching
and those hands on those hips
and those cherry blossom lips.
i miss your taste
in my mouth
and your pressure
and your smile
and those times when we wouldn't
say anything at all.
remember those times? how few
and far between, but
how comfortable.
i miss being comfortable.
i miss us.
i miss you.

i know i don't love her
because i want her for myself.
i should be happy.
that she's found what makes her happy,
i just wish that it was me.
then, we would both be happy.
sleep.

With Purpose

I've spent the last few weeks attempting to do
what it is I had, according to history,
done best: forgetting.
In fact, it wasn't something
that needed much effort-
Nature won out over nurture this time.
To forget comes naturally to a mess like me.
It isn't even what I had intended;
for utter absence of that memory isn't something
I'll ever fully be able to accomplish anyway.
Rather, to separate emotion from experience-
that is my aim.
And every aim has a purpose, and mine is
both simple and solitary,
as any should be:
I just don't want to feel for you
what I felt for you then-
because it isn't acceptable any more.
This way will no doubt be better for both of us.
Above all else, my goal is to allow you happiness-
and this may be my only chance
to make that up to you.
He's waiting for you, and your heart is as well-
waiting for you to move on.
I'm also attempting to...
but I can't do it alone.
Friends? It seems absurd.
But from this point,
absurd is something I can deal with.
And something I can be happy with,
if you can be.
I'll keep my heart and eyes attuned
to you, like always
but I'll watch from the sidelines this time.
I'm pretty comfortable here anyways.

my stomach hurts.

my stomach hurts.
isn't this the worst?

be still, my heart

Be still, my heart.
You're beating far too loud.
That tactless sound
may escape from my mouth.

Be still, my mind.
You're sprinting far too fast.
One vain, unhealthy,
love that didn't last.

Be still, my eyes.
Ah, spending time alone...
The lights entice,
and the fragile, falling snow.

And the brightest little firefly
escapes its jar on Christmas day.
And the brightest wish on Santa's list
will never see the light of day.

Be still, my heart.
Please, please calm down.
We can't have that strong an emotion
in this quiet little town.

Be still, my mind.
She's yours no longer, son.
Console yourself--
Shut down, refuel, you're done.

Be still, my eyes.
The one with the linked arm,
the newly chosen one--
He isn't causing any harm.

And the brightest little firefly
escapes its jar on Christmas day.
And the brightest wish on Santa's list
will never see the light of day.