i'm afraid i have put too much sugar in the kool-aid

so many stars.

"hey baby, look at the sky.
are you looking? really looking?"

he asks me.

no, i am not looking
at the sky.
i'm too preoccupied
with memorizing his
smile.

"come on, just look at it."

no, i am not looking
at the sky
because his face is right there.
so gosh darn close.

"can't you see? that sky is always
there. it's always the same damn
sky hanging above us. the stars
may 'twinkle' and 'dance' but they never change."

"I know."

i softly say.

"you know?"
he says even softer.

"no matter where we call home,
even if our breaths can't reach others skin
we've got miles of sky in common
and all those damn stars."

i say, hoping that makes sense.
hoping he won't leave.
hoping he will stay around
for at least a little while.

he kisses my cheek.
i love you.
i love you.
i love you.

and in that moment
i was not afraid of anything.
nothing at all.
nothing.
at.
all.

look at that sky.
that beautiful, so fucking beautiful sky.

the cold outside makes my face red.

mmmmm

i like sunshine
that brightens the mood
and makes skin so warm
and breaths so light.

he's rather good at playing games.

he spells out words
like 'quizzical'
and 'xylophone'
when we play scrabble.

he laughs lightly when
he informs me that
made up words don't count.

what bullshittedness.

i'd kiss him over
the game board
but he might think i'm cheating,
looking at his squares.

he'd be right.

he looks me in the eye
as he lays down his final squares:

c-u-p-c-a-k-e.

he wins.
I lose.
fuck.
me.
baby.

taking a break from my ever-so-long term paper.

11/18/08 poem

i am the earth
my lover is the sun
and our love
illuminates the whole
damned sky.

i will buy the periodic fucking
table of elements
and give you all
of the pretty ones.
like radium,
so you'd glow in the dark
and i'd never lose you again.

i want to know how
your skin feels
when you're smiling.
so don't mind my
hand on your hand,
my hand on your shoulder,
my hand across your stomach.

i need to find a cure for
the common cold.
so we can all get better,
get better then this shit.

i've been waiting outside
your doorstep.
my lips are cold.
your lips are hot.
we need a happy median.

baby, watch how those stars dance.
and watch how you illuminate me.

hiding behind the sunshine.

11/13/08
[poem]

i'm laughing so hard
so darn hard.
tears are streaming down my face.
my throat aches
and boogers just might...
they might be
dripping down my face.

cal-i-for-nia
is where the flowers
that decorate my hair
grow.
and if left uncut
these flowers
would take over the world,
the whole world.

i'm hoping i don't fall
off this roof,
far far far down.
because it may take
a while for me
to regain my footing.

you're laughing so hard.
so darn hard.
tears are streaming down your face.
your throat aches.

i love you. i want to say 'I love you'.
but the snot on my face
may make things awkward.

sometimes, fiction writes itself.

a poem, or something like it.

"how do you like the ocean?"

his voice was a sidewalk i wanted to be on.

"it's no good to drink it. "

god damn ocean.

i will drink you.
the salt will clog my veins
and the fishys will live inside me.

pink coral will grow with my brain
and spiral out of my ears and onto
the floor.

"oh, how lovely." people will say.

people. will. say. people like lovely things.

an octopus will neighbor my
lungs and say "how do you do?
i'm moving in too!"

sea weed will grow so tall
it'll wrap around my air way,
just to spite me.
just to kill me.
kill me for being a
heavy drinker.

baby gives me a weird look.
i love him.
his voice is a sidewalk i want to be on.

"are you okay?" he asks.

i'm fine.

f-i-n-e.

"i'm fine, just awfully thirsty."

so god damn thirsty
for something other than this.
my life.

i want to drink your life, be you.

drink. it. away.
you can drink me
have me how you want.

how you want, baby.

math class was not a waste.

a poem:

treading on irony.

i think about
all the
things
i don't have
time to
do.
like learn how
to make
paper
cranes that actually
will fly
or
become a good
person and
do
something nice, something
sweet for
you.
instead i waste
time here;
nothing.
you won't look
at me
now.
that makes me
want to
cry.
oh, because time
is long
days
are short and
i could
make
time for you
but I
don't.

time is not
the enemy,
here.