so.

i stood.

i watched.

i leaned a little to the side

to catch the speckle that is you

walking out,

unto the path,

or across the grass,

or into the sky

surrounded by clouds.

you.

my goodness.

you.

i played myself.

and what an awful prank.

how many times have you used those lines?

have you got any more tricks up your sleeve,

with those cards,

or is it all in your eye, your chuckle,

damned smiles and twinkling eyes?

stay away from me.

i don't want your words,

because even your hellos

sound like trash you're throwing away.

sweet delicious trash,

i don't want it.

i want to shut a hundred doors in your face,

and i promise that this anger would shatter

glass, splinter

wood, melt

metal.

and i promise that i will keep this anger

far away from you,

because i will no longer seek you out,

and i will tell lies and

i will say that these strings of words

are not for you,

they're not

they're not

they never were, 

and never will be.

i will keep my anger

because you don't deserve it.

you don't deserve anything from me.

you and i are

a waste of time.

stay away, because i will burn.

and it would be sad

if you burned away too.

keep the change.

playing in the cold.

air all around

and not a breath to spare.

the warmth of your room

i cannot afford,

i've tried and paid once

with more than i had.

my pockets are empty,

torn and unmended,

and both refuse my requests

to keep anything i'd had.

it's funny, you see.

i had the idea as a child

that i would find you,

and here i am,

thinking, believing i have.

i kept pennies of luck,

sweet nickels and dirty dimes,

quarters of myself,

i saved, you see!

you're the wish

that finally broke my piggy bank.

i waited, for you.

i gave, and you still aren't mine.

but that's okay.

i can be happy,

knowing that you are there,

knowing that i found a

childish memory of mine in you,

knowing that though you won't stay,

i won't stay either,

that as you forget,

i'll forget too.

phone call.

hi.

i told my dad about you today.

everything, almost.

everything that i know about you,

about how you put smiles

on my face and in my heart.

the way i pay for this happiness

in tears of frustration.

the way you love,

the way you fear,

how you want

but cannot get.

your weakness, hidden

behind gilded strength.

your fatigue and constant waiting,

your expectation for great joy

and great pain, 

your hope for only the first

and not the latter.

how you talk to me...

darling,

dad disapproves.

not of you.

of me.

he told me 

not to wish for things i cannot have.

love, he said, is like shopping.

if you pick what you desire the most,

you often cannot pay for it.

he told me

not to buy things i cannot afford.

he told me,

dear daughter,

you do not know him

all that well,

you do not yet see

aspects that you do not like.

he told me

i'd better stay away from you

as much as possible,

as long as possible.

he told me

not to stay here

to go back home

where i will not see you.

he said it will be better for me,

and for you.

i know that he's right.

i wonder if the summer is long enough

for me to wash and rinse you off.

a little more than an unlucky odd number of months-

they're all i have

until... goodbye, goodbye.

a nap

i move over a little,

your head falls on my shoulder,

a snowflake on a windless day.

i say, what's wrong?

you say, everything.

everything.

i rest my head on yours.

i say, i love you.

i hear you breathe.

i lift my head,

look at your face,

beautifully sad.

i touch my lips to your brow,

to your nose.

i see a weak smile,

i spot some glitter at the corner

of your closed, wincing eyes,

and i kiss those eyes,

and my chapped lips

hurt and sting you and me a little.

i love you, don't you know,

don't you know...

someone taps me

on the shoulder you were resting on.

i look at the shape of a body 

standing before me,

i see two, or three...

you okay? it asks,

you're crying, you know.

you must have been having

quite some dream, it said,

and this couch is probably

not the best place to sleep.

i love you, do you know,

do you know...

thoughts of you

so heavy, i fall.

what do i do

when sleep finally comes,

and all it does

is remind me of you? 

don't be so cold,

can you...

leave me alone?

can i

let you?