I Saw Time Slow

Everyone is laughing when time slows.
His eyes meet mine.
He's caught me admiring him.
I'm afraid he can see it in my eyes.
I want to look away, to conceal my thoughts.
But I want to hold his gaze a moment longer.
I wonder what he sees in my eyes.
Does he admire my smile as I do his?
I admonish myself for daring the hope.
He only happened to catch my gaze.
Could the laughter in his eyes be something more?
I need to look away.
I don't want him to read my eyes.
I tear my brown away from his blue.
My heart finishes skipping its beat.
Time resumes its normal pace.
Everyone is still laughing.
Only I saw time slow.

Petty Girls

Pretty smiles, petty girls. Fun laughter, fake people.
Pretend to care, pity me. False friendship, keep it.
Listen closely, lies whispered. Good times, gossip loudly.
People come and go. Drop anyone you want.
Really love, really lying. Silly moments, staged memories.
Put on a good show. Two faces are too few.
Shoulder to cry on, stab in the back. Open arms, open mouth.
Young at heart, never grow up. Boasting in immaturity.
Pretty smiles, petty girls.


For H.G.

Poetry Analysis

Don't put words to what I left unsaid.
Don't define what I left abstract.
Don't make concrete what I left ambiguous.
Don't voice feelings I left silent.
You don't know my thoughts.
You don't understand my mind.
Don't take the soul out of my words.
Don't analyze what I meant to be enjoyed.
You can't capture poetry in a formula.
You can't scrutinize what is meant to be felt.
Don't pick apart what I put together.
Don't put words to what I left unsaid. 

Coffee Shop (Fade Away)

I'm just a girl sitting alone in a coffee shop.
Not saying a word, not drawing attention.
I sit with a cup of coffee and a pen: all I really need.
I don't make a sound but my words scream through my pen.
I beg not to disappear, I cry for purpose.
No one sees the girl in the corner, head down to the paper.
No one knows her life is standing still, she's fading away.
I'm not supposed to be here but cobwebs hold me captive.
I long to move, I dream of adventure.
But no one sees the girl alone in a coffee shop.
She's invisible, she has no voice.
I don't want to be her, I don't want to fade away.
In white noise and faint aromas no cries are heard.
I was just a girl sitting alone in a coffee shop.
I fade away.

No Ode to Ordinary

How hard it is to write a poem with no love and no heartache.
The two trademarks of art and I have neither.
Anything in between is average, dull.
No sonnets were written about the guy who never texted back.
No masterpieces were made with a heart full of just friends.
It is so hard to write with this mediocre disposition.
With no epic love and no woes, one can hardly expect me to write a poem.
Am I supposed to write an ode to my dog, the only male in my life?
Or perhaps to my coffee addiction, at least I can call it "Joe."
How difficult it is to be artistic when I am still living with my parents.
If you were expecting poetry, I am sorry.
I have no ode to ordinary.

Write Me a Song

Write me a song, darling.
Play the chords on my skin.
Arrange the melody on my lips.
Play me a song, one just for me.
Write the notes with your whispers.
Hum the tune with your touch.
Write me a song that will get stuck in my head.
Play a melody that will stay in my heart.
I don't care if you're tone deaf or dumb.
Sing me our song.
It sounds perfect to me, dear.
It feels like your love.
Your murmurs, your touch are my favorite tune.
Write me a song, darling.
And play it again.

Sometimes I Think About You

Sometimes I think about you.
I know I have not right or reason.
But I still do.
I think about us laughing.
I think about talking for hours.
I think of your warm jacket.
Sometimes I think about what could have been.
I know I shouldn't.
But I still do.
I think of things I never said.
I think about feelings you never had.
I think of kisses I never felt.
Sometimes I think about what could be.
I know it never will.
But I still do.
I think about calling.
I think about hoping for more.
I think about coming back there.
Sometimes I think about when I left.
I know I left for good reasons.
But I still do.
I think about saying goodbye.
I think about knowing you wouldn't call.
I thinking about not turning back.
Sometimes I think about you.
But it's only a dream.