Poem - Coffee & Butter

when i sit alone, i imagine you there with your Otter mustache and your long, willow hair imagining a vivid, a splendid life with you, and mornings filled with Coffee and Butter.
when i see trees, i remember those photos of me you took, in the yard, behind your house and climbing over the gate with your mother's camera how you said you thought my smile was pretty
remembering the first time we said "i love you" and the poem you wrote me only days before the candy and soda on a Saturday morning when i was 16, and you still walked to my house
when I'm at home by myself, and i want to cry  i wish for you, to gaze into your wide, star-burst eyes imagining a vivid, a splendid life with you, and mornings filled with Coffee and Butter.
i hope we stay this way; together, for all time to write each other vows, buy a house, and call you mine just to sleep next to you, without our parents to object you and i, we are beyond just "i love you"
ever since those pleasant memories, so many more pleasant happenings, just the thought of us "happening"
i pray that you can see it in my face, and feel it too because there will not one person I'll ever adore as much as you you may not believe it, but it's true if only you truly knew
when i daydream, all i see is your face caressing your chin, in a full-armed embrace imagining a vivid, a splendid life with you, and endless mornings filled with Coffee and Butter.

Poem - No One

in bed, she lies; she stares to the blank, white sky; off-white i  n  s  i  d  e no sun.
stepping down from her own safety suit, cringing a her feet hit the floor, almost fearing life o   u   t   s   i   d   e no more.
forgetting to remove yesterday's mask, the faded make-up, like faded energy i   n   s   i   d   e no thoughts.
nothing but tired, and needing more sleep the inability, inevitably; insomnia i  n  s  i  d  e no rest.
mind astray. array, askew, unlike her eyes somehow embarrassed, yet remaining unnoticed o  u  t  s  i  d  e no one.

Poem - (not) a New Start

it was sunny and warm, but it felt frozen, somewhat bleak; i felt bare.       new walls;       new halls;    a new hell. it was like a fairytale;       all too familiar,  and just as unkind. off-white bricks old foam ceilings vile tiles, a floor so common and most people, all the same.      just as before. there are no maps for this journey, just like there wasn't the last time "is this really what you want?" take the chance. do your art. what a  waste.