I dream

I dream of silence on a mountain top
I dream of days I have long forgot
I dream of Paris in the snow
I dream of nights on the beach
I could dream to fill a lifetime
If all my dreams came true
But what’s the point in dreaming
If the dream is not for two?
I could have the moon in the southern sky
I could have the stars on a pitch-black night
I could have the ocean, the rivers, and the trees
I could have the blue birds that sing in the spring
Anything in this world, I could have if I chose
But it all means nothing if I’m not with you.

Your Eyes

I miss our conversations and the sparkle in your eyes. I miss the phone calls that last all night. I hate that we lost that connection and that we don’t feel close anymore. I know that things will never be the same but I miss the comfort of your understanding. I miss the way we spoke in words few others understood. Not often do you find someone with whom you connect so easily yet even as I write these words I remember the cloudy days. I remember the times we fought when you thought I didn’t understand, when you wanted me to take a leap I wasn’t ready for, when I couldn’t bear my soul as you desired. We rode the waves to safety but never really left the shore. We simply waited hoping to get swept away again. I miss the way it felt to be with you on those cold December nights. I miss the light in your eyes.

Without you

Being without you is lonely in the strangest kind of way
There is no gaping whole of sorrow
My life didn’t stop when you drove away
This feeling isn’t overwhelming
It doesn’t leave me paralyzed
I miss you in the smallest ways
Like being covered in a thousand tiny paper cuts
Each memory as insatiable as the last
They sting and pulse with every touch
But no blood rushes to the incision
There are no wounds to nurse
Just small enough to cause no bleeding
Just strong enough to cause great pain
Being without you is lonely in the strangest kind of way

The City

I step into the darkness of the city
Pacing down the sidewalks that are broken
I look around the streets for answers
Ever searching for the light

The evening is chilled by the winds of the city
As the people huddle under the streetlights
Glass lay on the street broken
As the people cry out unanswered

For a silence has consumed the city
As they too search blankly for the answers
And the guardian of hope treads lightly
Protecting souls on the verge of breaking

There is an emptiness that fills the city
Making whole what once was broken
For in the darkness of ourselves we find answers
That carry us back to the light

Find Me

Wait for me in strawberry fields
As the city lights go dark
And we’ll count the stars above us
As we wonder through the park

Find me in Boston Harbor
By the ships that sail away
We’ll catch the first boat out of here
And find our dreams amidst the bay

Look for me on the Champs Elysee
I’ll be dancing in the streets
Singing songs of love to you
From the corner where we’ll meet

Meet me on Grand Avenue
And we’ll stroll down memory lane
Looking back on our time together
As you take my breath away

We’ll travel the world together
Close your eyes and you shall see
The world could be our playground
Eternally, you and me

Tired

“You alright over there” questioned the voice across the room. “Yes”, she replied, “I’m just tired.” And she was tired, of everything. Tired of waiting, tired of wishing, tired of being disappointed. She spent her whole life chasing dreams she would never reach. He could have any girl he wanted and the last thing he wanted was her. She lay there motionless for the slightest movement may be the difference between her sanity and her shattered heart. He was everything to her. The best friend, the confidant, the sounding board. When she had a rough day, he was the first person she called because somehow he always seemed to know just what to say to take her mind elsewhere. Likewise, when he had great news, she was his number one. Their lives were so entwined it was hard to imagine it could ever be any different. They were partners in crime and losing him would, at the very least, mean losing part of herself.

Still Something

Even as she typed the words, she knew she shouldn’t. She knew she only perpetuated her heartbreak in doing so. Even after everything that happened, after all the tactless words, after all the countless tears, there was still something hiding just beneath the surface. Still that feeling of loss. Still the idea that he might be the one that got away. Why she continued this pattern she was quite unaware. Surely she had moved on. He certainly wasn’t the one occupying her thoughts as of late. But some how she still needed him. She needed to hear his voice. She needed to see his face. She needed to know that he was ok. And so every once in a while, when she saw a Whitman poem, or heard a song he loved, she would think of him. She would remember the cool November air the day they ruled the world. She would recount the conversations held in the dark hours of morn. She would remember the way his eyes look the night he kissed her. And then she would send him a message to inquire about his life and patiently await his delayed response. On the inside, her heart would fracture just a touch as she tried to memorize the feelings they had surely lost. A knot would form in her throat as she remembered the night they traveled to Italy and Spain from the comfort of her den. And then, as if to represent her solitude, a single tear might form, to remind her of the day things changed. Even after all this time, there was still something she couldn't release.