1. I’m still waiting for the fog to lift;
    for me to find a path instead of staying adrift.
    I used to have a future and a plan to match,
    I used to have you to make up what I lacked.
    And I thought I was free at last of your fog,
    I thought that alone was the way to get along.
    But every time you wrote to me, I broke down again
    I guess my confidence was just an illusion of strength.
    So each time we spoke, I tried to make myself hard,
    tried to brace myself for words that always pierced sharp,

    But it’s strange now because seeing you doesn’t hurt;


  2. Do you picture me
    smiling at all of your pain?
    Do you really think
    I enjoy seeing you bleed?
    I can’t even say
    that it hurts me to know that.
    I rarely feel it
    since I’ve decided not to.

    Do you picture me
    planning out ways to hurt you?
    Have we both lost sight
    of what I thought was our goal—
    to be healed, happy?

    I should have skipped class
    I should have done… anything,
    anything to change.
    I don’t want to be that friend
    that makes conditions
    and tells you you have to choose
    either her or me.

    Maybe the truth is
    I just destroy everything
    that makes me happy.
    I don’t think I deserve it.
    I am aware of
    this darkness inside of me
    and I still don’t know…
    can I learn to control it?
    It may just kill me.

    Am I a monster
    disguised in pretty words and
    pretty lips that lie?
    Lying to myself and then
    everybody else?

    What I feel in this moment is that you want to stay with her and you want friends around. I think that to make those two things happen, you should spend some time with Richard and genuinely try to correct the things he felt were wrong in your friendship. And because you have a girlfriend you want to keep, you need to stay away from me. I don’t want it to be that way, but pushing her to accept my presence in your life will not help your relationship. It’ll probably hurt it even more.

    You know that I can’t go anywhere. I will still be here when she isn’t in the picture anymore. It sucks that i’ll be missing out on spending time with you before you leave, I won’t get to have my best friend around, but that’s how it is. We put ourselves in this position by making bad decisions in the past, and making it so she doesn’t trust us to be around each other. I can’t blame her.



  3. Sometimes I think about rhymes—
    the meter and the rhythm stretched in neat little lines.
    I wonder why your poetry can never stay in time


  4. Dear Hope,

    At first I did not know
    the word for what you are.
    At first I couldn’t name the feeling
    of when I saw a shooting star.

    But then I learned about words
    and all the meanings that they hold.
    And despite an age that said otherwise,
    I began to feel so old.

    I found you in dandelions
    but you fell apart in the breeze.
    I tried so hard to be in your arms
    that I ended up on my knees.

    And then one day I made up my mind—
    you were a curse to carry each day.
    But try as I might, I just couldn’t fight
    I couldn’t make you go away.

    After months and months I gave that up
    and I realized something new—
    that you were a big part of me,
    and to myself I must be true.

    There’s a balance for every aspect
    of this life’s complex feelings
    and you, dear friend, were either low
    or bursting at the ceiling.

    Despite my years of wisdom
    I am still a child at heart.
    Despite all the confusion,
    I was able to make a new start.

    And now that I am walking through
    red brick buildings and big oak trees,
    I hope that you will be here too;
    I hope that my hope stays with me.


  5. (5)

    I’ll just keep all these poems in my drafts,
    deny that they’re there if anyone asks.
    They all have the same topic anyway,
    I guess I’ll save them for a rainy day.


  6. (3)

    I was going to say
    that I find it funny how
    I have just broken someone’s heart
    much in the same way
    you would’ve broken mine
    had you still been here,
    and had you still been leaving…

    But it’s not really funny, is it?


  7. 4.1.14. (2)

    If I just scratch your name into this page one more time,
    I will be able to sleep.
    If I could just find a new way to retell our story,
    I would sleep.
    If I just know that you’re alive and well,
    I will go to sleep.
    If I only knew you thought of me once in a while,
    It wouldn’t be such a fight each night to sleep.

    If I could just sleep,
    I would be able to forget you.


  8. 4.1.14.

    The clock ticks out the wrong time—
    one two-two three,
    you her-him me.
    The hour hand hovers at and just below the five—
    tick tock tock,
    tick tick tock.
    My heart beats the rhythm that my words can’t find—
    one two, one two,
    one two, one two.
    It’s always hard to make sense, so much easier to rhyme—
    Roses red, violets blue.
    One two three, one two one two.

    The world beyond your window seems impossibly alive,
    but all you want to do is sleep a little longer, right?
    The water’s so inviting but you’d rather wade than dive.

    Now the sun is out and trying hard to make you see the light,
    and you keep the curtains drawn so you won’t go blind.


  9. 3.28.14.

    Write me a sad poem
    in hopes that I’ll write one for you.
    Keep the beat uneven
    and the meaning misconstrued.

    If your thoughts are clear as blue sky
    then your words are running ink.
    And they’re turning this water black;
    making it poisonous to drink.

    But as your words make a murky river
    something beneath is clearly seen
    under all the sweetness,
    you’re still just cold and mean.


  10. 2.19.14.

    The topics of our midnight conversations
    could make a sex therapist blush.
    But when it comes to being physical,
    hey, we’re in no rush…


  11. 2.18.14.

    I used to press my palms
    up against the cool wall,
    and whisper, “I love you”
    like that could solve it all.

    I used to hold my hands there
    if only just to know
    that the temperature of my heart
    wasn’t the coldest in the room.


  12. 11:50AM 11.26.13. English Lit
    There is a ringing in my ears,
    somehow it silences my fears.
    And in the wake of you being here,
    it’s funny how things aren’t any clearer.
    There is a shuffle in my step,
    though I try not to drag my feet.
    Can’t count the times that I have wept,
    still hoping for a repeat.
    Did I ever have your respect?
    The question eats away at me.
    There is a sad smile on my face
    when our paths cross on campus.
    When you’re gone I read your old notes,
    and my hopes are running rampant.
    There is a hanging of my head,
    when I walk past places we would meet.
    There is an aching, empty dread
    when I think you never cared for me.
    There is a flutter in my heart
    when I remember your eyes.
    In spite of us being apart,
    I feel you running is a disguise.
    There is a tear here in my soul
    when I think that you have run
    because of feelings you couldn’t hold.
    I wish you’d see it—I’m the one.


  13. I said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

    I meant, “I will wait forever if you ask me to.”

    Part of me will hope forever, regardless.