making tea
12/09/2005 08:21 p.m.
i miss standing in your kitchen

we'd be making tea;
it was summer but
you could drink it
any time of the year

we'd wait there
for the water to boil
and you'd wrap your arms around me
it was subtle but felt
exactly right

it was just your way of saying
you are my favorite person
to make tea with

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beautiful and sad
11/25/2005 06:14 a.m.
like a good poem, she is beautiful and sad.

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you never knew me
11/19/2005 05:33 a.m.
i appologize
i know i've been out of line
and i say
"i'm a bitch, you know me..."
and you say,
"no i don't."

are you trying to kill me?

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from november to november
11/18/2005 02:54 a.m.
i am afraid
of the calendar
because i know what it will say
[today would have been
our anniversary]

and i am capturing minutes and moments
of the past year
spent together

this time, last november,
we'd be laughing in the warmth of your bedroom,
the white walls and ninja turtle sheets,
and i would lean in and kiss you

december nights we'd
talk until late, wishing for a merry christmas
and a happy new year (together)

bitter january was spent under your covers,
and february the same

march was your first [and only] birthday with me
and i remembering thinking, thank god you were born

in april our love was real, and pure
we slept in each others laps, bathed in each others showers,
lived in each others arms

may, six months and counting,
there were no secrets left to tell;
you spent the night and i remember waking up to you
shirtless, beautiful,
pulling me to you with your eyes closed
[i would give so much to feel that one more time]

june was spent swimming
or sun bathing, which ever felt right at the time,
and looking at you, silhouetted by the summer sun,
i thought (i knew) i was the luckiest girl in the world

july
there was a drift;
you were busy, i was preoccupied.
phone calls were distant,
visits were rare
[but there was hope]

sunny august afternoons you'd come over
and watch me undress
before i took a shower;
you'd run to me, lusty-eyed,
holding me close

[but we lost the warmth of that summer]

september, everything changed.
there was a silence between us;
our embraces were cold,
our kisses were dry

september,
i lost you

[deep.breaths.deep.breaths]

october,
i was not alive
i was idle
i was dying
october,
i was dead

i could swear that i felt your weight next to me
in my bed
and i'd reach for you and pull on the sheets
i'd call out to you but
[there was nothing]

november
is a month of rememberance

one year ago today,
we had our first kiss

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one kiss
11/14/2005 12:29 a.m.
looking back,
i didn't kiss you enough.
we reached a point where it was
one kiss
and then
the hands go exploring,
the clothes go flying,
and it's over.

but i miss the graceful curves
of your lips;
the warmth and sincerity
of your tongue

the feeling of a kiss is like
a new love.
it is fresh and
new and
exciting.
kissing is genuine and
true and
honest.

looking back,
i wish i kissed you more
maybe then you would have known
how pure my love was.

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two seperate boys
11/05/2005 06:05 a.m.
i don't want to go home
i want to come over
and lay in your bed
[don't touch me,]
i just want to sleep
with a warm body next to me
i just want to remember
what that feels like

and you're a fine candidate
for such an act
because you like me
[the way i feel about you is irrelevant]
and i know i am welcome
under your sheets

*

i feel like i see you
all the time now
like our paths suddenly
have something in common

and maybe it would be more appropriate
to glance quickly and then bolt
but

you know how i can be.
i talk too much.

so i make small talk and i smile and i ask you how you are
and my sentences get longer and lose purpose
because i really just want to remember what it was like
to share everything with you,
to be honest
i miss having that

and you nod and grunt and
wait for me to shut up
but i can feel that somewhere inside of you
you miss me

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he never thinks of me
10/31/2005 10:02 p.m.
i wonder how he never thinks of me
even while putting on
the underwear i bought him
or drinking the tea
i surprised him with

i wonder how he never thinks of me
while hearing the music i would play for him
or while passing the space on his desk
where there was a picture of me

i mean,
how can he not think of me
when he sleeps on a pillow
we used to share?

how can he not think of me
when he opens the drawer where he keeps
my old love letters,
or sees the box of condoms
in the closet?

when his heart swells
and he feels in love
[the way we used to]
i wonder
if he thinks of me

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a greeting of some kind
10/28/2005 03:35 a.m.
i'm the nice one
who smiles and says
how are you
and really wants to know

and i honestly don't deserve
the grunting and
eye-rolling
you throw back at me

let me refresh your memory:
you left me
when i needed you the most
because you'd rather spend your free time
sleeping
than holding me

i've gotten over that now
and i would appreciate the decency
of a greeting of some kind

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you're asleep
10/27/2005 04:21 a.m.
you're asleep now.
i'm not.

i stay up all night now
thinking of you
wondering if i think hard enough
i'll appear in your dreams

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i will not call
10/26/2005 03:37 a.m.
i will not call you.
i am passed that.

now when i miss you
my only choice is to
cry alone

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