Wow.

i don't think
i ever could have expected this
or even imagined it
in my craziest thoughts.

Latch

Sometimes
it's so easy
to be open
to say
what's on my mind
and in my heart.
But
I need you
to want to hear.

Clock

I still toss my glance to the bathroom wall
expecting to see the rainbow clock,
two minutes behind schedule (or something like that),
but this is a new time and place
and it isn't there.
It's funny the way my brain
flips the orientation of the room in looking.
But I wonder
how long it will be
before I stop.

Block

I wonder how you know
when you should listen to your head
and when you should pay attention
to what your heart's telling you?

Movement Studio

Tears
Blood
Breaks
Sweat
Pain

Hugs
Friendship
Love
Laughter
Life.

Faith

Did I ever tell you
that I always looked
at the fourth window from the doors on the left
before I came in,
and I always loved
when yellow light glowed
from behind the shades
because then I knew that you were there?

Well
I did.

It was kind of like a funny sort of coming home.

Genuine

I like it
when you come up and hug me.
I like feeling like you're my friend
even though it's only been a few weeks since we met.
I like feeling like you care.

Dress

I feel pretty
when I'm wearing red high heels.
Don't you?

Yacht

This is not really a poem. It's kind of a collection of questions that I thought of stream-of-consciousness. I think. I'm sorry.
~~~

content to life let pass him for a while

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVE LIKE THAT.

and I might wish that I could,
like, that I knew how to stop.

But at the same time, I'm kind of scared of stopping.



You had a friend who died yesterday.
Sarah.
And I feel bad because you are in pain.

And I wonder if I would know how to grieve
if someone I loved died like that.
Do I even know how to love?
How can you grieve for someone
if you don't know how to care for them?
Am I emotionally grieving for you,
or is it just intellectual
and I am trying to make myself hurt inside, too?

How does one learn to love?

And how can I learn to live?

Antithesis

The red bricks here
warm my hands and heart
even when the wind
burns them with its ice.