Forgotten Search

Today it was,
the first time ever.
I forgot to look for him,
down by his locker,
three down from the
English class door.
I forgot to look for him.

It took me
two years to notice him,
ten minutes to meet him,
one hour to like him,
three months to trust him,
and seven months to tell him.
And today was the first day
that I forgot to look for him. 

I smiled at her,
his girl, his love,
pride and joy,
I hoped.
The one I trusted to make him happy
and to make me happy
and distract me from the other him,
and distract me from
the loss of him,
and she did.
Because I didn’t look for him
today. 

I find myself feeling guilty
as if he was never there
a memory,
lost
forever.
Never in my life,
trusted him once,
never coming back,
and I may never see
him again.
Because I forgot to look.

Left Unsaid

You said it’s better left unsaid,
you said you’d better keep it in your head
you said that I don’t need to know
because you’re scared.

You said you wouldn’t tell me that
as if I knew the darkened fact,
you told me if I knew why you were scared
I’d know the truth as well.

But baby,
I know the truth.
I know what you are hiding.
Baby,
I know the truth,
and I know that you’ve been lying.

You love me don’t you?
At least, you think you do,
Baby, you love me don’t you,
and I always knew.
You can’t hide that love from me,
darling baby.

Baby, I’m glad you didn’t say it,
I’m scared of what I’d say,
I’m scared that I’d be happy,
or that you’d sweep me away.
I’m scared that I’d say it back
and I’m scared that….
What if I meant it?

You were going to tell me you loved me,
you were going to say you cared,
that you wished I was the girl beside you,
that you wished I’d always be there.

You love me, don’t you?

And what could I say to that?
Baby, you know I love him.
You know he’s my life.
Baby, I can’t love you.

But I just might.

Thing is, Baby,
I love you sure, that’s the truth,
but I don’t feel right in loving you,
and I left unsaid that I need you.

I didn’t say I need you, that I love you too,
that everything I know is mixed up in you,
because you’re so much like him.

Baby, I love you too.
But it doesn’t matter,
because that will remain unsaid

Missing You

I’m kind of sitting here wondering
where I’ll be tomorrow.
Loving you, or him?

I’m kind of sitting here remeniscing,
with the you’s that I’ve been missing,
the both of you.

I’m kind of sitting here hoping
that you’re thinking of me too,
that he doesn’t know about you,
because that would destroy me.

I’m kind of wondering,
where are you now?

And when I kind of wonder a little about you
I have to kind of wonder about him too
because he holds such resemblance to you,
a flame of candle
holding up a flame to you.
But I hope that you miss me too.

And I’m kind of hoping he’s missing me,
and remembering those little things
that you and I never did together.

Because you and I can share everything,
but really we are nothing,
because we both kind of love each other
without surpassing “that thought.”

Love? I’m kind of wishing I wasn’t confused,
kind of thinking about only you,
but I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t missing him too.

The Realization

I know, I know,
You’ve been waiting for a while,
just to see my holding smile
but it just doesn’t seem to come. 

And here I am again
waiting as always for what will never be
and wishing upon stars
that I can’t even see,
and praying to you
that things will someday change.

And I know that this is on my shoulders,
I can’t hold on to what was never there,
can’t pretend it will always be alright
and can’t keep hoping he’ll care
because I could pray to you a thousand times
and you wouldn’t  change your mind.
It’s just not meant to be
and that thought is killing me
oh-so-slowly
with the realization
that he will never care

Against popular belief, this is not a letter poem to God about how crappy life is. Actually, it’s poem that returns to my often recurring theme of a love triangle–being loved by someone while still feeling love for somebody else.

I wrote this one a couple months ago after revisiting some feelings I knew I had for a long time. It’s one of those things that only returns when you’re around that person, but when he’s gone, everything’s back to the way it was. The way it SHOULD be.

Looking Back

I stand here, alone as always,
again thinking of you,
just as is always my life
and what I always do. 

I lean against this tree trunk,
it is old and wise.
The age does not make it
wiser to the life lessons
of this world,
but less naive, I think.
And the tree does not speak
its truths to me,
as I wish it would.

I sigh and lean my head back,
looking into the clouds.
I am in a crowd, no one sees me,
because apparently, I’m never around.

Fall is coming,
I feel it in the breeze.
Cool and inviting
incessantly reciting
wisdom of the ages
and things that still elude me.

I close my eyes
and watch the fire bursts in my mind.
Around me, the leaves are changing,
and I’m losing my time with you.

When I open my eyes again,
a boy stands in front of me.
He is not beautiful, but simple,
not perfect, but nice.
Not you, but not nothing either.
And, as you know, for me
to say that he’s not nothing
is a stride I never thought I’d make.
I always thought you’d be my
everything
and everyone else,
nothing.

But I like to pretend sometimes
that maybe not everyone is nothing
but instead I am.
Because without you, I am indeed
nothing.
And, if you hadn’t noticed,
I don’t exactly have you.

He is walking towards me,
in my direction. His eyes
are focused on mine.
For once, somebody sees me
somebody sees me,
more than I could say for you
in several years.
And, as he watches me,
I watch him.
I do not love him
because he is not you
but I like being noticed.

And he walks behind me with his friends.
Now his back is on me as he walks away.

A leaf falls from the tree above me.
It is not golden, or crimson.
Not orange or green.
It is brown, sad, and dead.
It is broken and ripped up
at the end of its last days,
just like me.

I snatch it from the air
and twirl it between my fingers, putting it
to my lips. It is so soft
and so sad,
so broken, so shaken,
so mad.
So alone.

I brush it against my lips, staring into the sky
watching the clouds
as they drift on by.
They should rain,
but they won’t
because I’m not crying.
And when I cry,
it rains,
because though Karma may hate me,
though God may not care,
though life may be impossible,
the rain is always there.
For me, at least.

And, as I steal a glance back at the boy,
I expect of him what I do from you;
indifference.
Only, as I lean on the old
and wizened tree,
playing with her fallen
soldier leaf,
waiting for the clouds to rain
and thinking of you
once again…
He looks back at me.

I will never love him.
I do not know his name.
But he has taught me what I couldn’t learn
without things becoming this way.

Maybe I can be something for someone else,
even if I can’t be someone for you.

Maybe, someone will look back at me,
even if you never will…

Okay, so I haven’t updated in nearly two weeks. I’ve just been so busy with finals for school and whatnot taht I just haven’t had the time. I’ll try to be better about that, I promise. Besides, I’m out of school now, so I’ve got all the time in the world.

Anyway, this one’s about life, and loneliness. It’s about feeling noticed and perhaps even cared for for the first time in a long time. I wrote it some time ago, in the fall while I was on the way back home from covering a Cross Country Meet for my Journalism class. Hope you enjoyed, and sorry I haven’t posted.

A Burst of Happiness

Fireworks expand–
explode! inside my heart
and the sparks have nowhere to go
and the energy: trapped,
rebounding through my veins,
back and forth,
through, but returned
and expanseless–like the sky
but finite–human,
with tempest-like characteristics
and breathless, but free
and solemn, but excited
and quiet, but only to the rest
of the world.
Love? Maybe.
No. No, not love.
Just happiness.

And warm. So warm,
and perfect, if only for now.

Woo, my first poem without rhyme. I don’t think it’s as good as my others, but I wanted to go ahead and try it out. Didn’t turn out too bad, I don’t think. Seems good enough to post at least.

A Promise

I made a promise to myself
that I’d never love somebody else
but when I say it in my mind,
     ~it feels so true.

I made a promise to my friends
that I’d stop pondering this end
but when I say it in my mind
     ~it’s just a lie.

I made a promise to my mom
that I’d try to never yeild her wrong
but when I say it in my mind
     ~I know I sometimes fail her.

I made a promise to my God
that I’m just a diamond in the raw
but when I say it in my mind.
     ~I see no sparkle.

I made a promise to my him
that I’d love him and only him
but when I promise it aloud
     ~he doesn’t hear me.

I’m going to go ahead and clear this up now, because I’ve already heard this question at least four times. In the second stanza, it says “I’d stop pondering this end.” No, that is not a ponderance of suicide. “This end” is symbolism for a renewal, and for changing sometimes more than is nessasry. The person in the poem is not suicidal, but instead just scared. She’s changing and sometimes she believs that she will lose sight of who she is, which she feels will be the end of her.

Let Me Rescue You

Everything that matters to me
depends on if you are there.
You’re the addiction, the drug,
thats keeps me from disappear.
I sold my soul
for just one more moment with you
and so rightfully,
because you are losing you’re view.

You don’t see what you’ve done for me,
it’s the first time I’ve been free.
But you don’t see that they don’t care,
because they’ve never quite been there.
And they don’t know who you are,
or that you still wish on every falling star,
hoping to pick up the pieces,
I want to help you pick up those pieces.

Everytime I begin to write,
I feel the words form in my mouth.
“Broken” they always say,
but only for me, I’ve found.
My writings of you
are selfish for only just me,
Whether I like it or not,
I’m not who you want me to be.

I’m happy, I am,
I swear it with all my heart.
I’ve learned that to live,
you have to be ripped apart.
Because that love
is what makes you so strong inside.
And that love for you
is strong enough to abide.

But you’re broken, I see,
I know what I didn’t before.
You’re lonely and scared,
knocking down death’s door.
I went through that too,
Let me just help you now.
I know what it’s like
to be crowded alone, somehow.

But I can’t take another
step closer to you.
No matter how many stairs I fall
and what else I want to do.
You keep your distance,
and I suppose that makes most sense,
who are you to be weak from life or from love
or from ingnorance?

But Dear,
you are weak.
We all are.
So may I help?

May I rescue you?
Please, I want to save you.
Let me rescue you.
We both know no one else will.

Originally this was supposed to be a love poem. But when I realized it was about a guy friend of mine, I looked a little closer and found that it’s really more of a poem to an old friend. It’s about stopping to realize that you don’t have the deepest problems in the world, and wishing to use that to help someone you truly care about.

Paper Hearts

She’s just a child
when she washes her hands
of that which had told her
would destroy her plans.
She’s just a child
when he washes away
letting cries fall to silence
on her happiest day.
She’s just a child
when he tells her goodbye
says not to love him
and never to cry.
She’s just a child
when he holds her so close
and tells her he’s sorry,
and he missed her the most.

But when she grows up
and she then learns to live,
she cuts out of paper
the hearts that she rid.
She’s all grown up
when he refuses her hand
and she closes her fingers
around God-forsaken sand.
She’s all grown up
when the hearts float away
but because she’s grown up,
she’s now happy today.

I wrote this one listening to “Paperthin Hymn” by Anberlin (great band, you should  check them out.). Basically, it’s saying that while, yes, the heart may break into a thousand pieces and love may seem the most painful of any of life’s trials, it is always worth it, no matter how much pain it brings, because if this love is true (even if not returned in the way you might want it to be) the fiery spark is enough to leave you happy.

I’ll Give You my Heart

I'll Give You my Heart

I’ll give my heart for just this moment,
maybe you’ll see what I can see,
If I give you my heart for only a moment
would you lend your own to me?

Can I show you what every heart has given
even if it means tearing me apart,
baby, please tell me now if you can see it,
baby, can you see my heart?

And if I lend it just this moment,
would you have the will to give it back?
Should I choose to let you see this moment,
will you let my heart still stay intact?

Let me give you my heart for just one minute
because then I’ll believe you’ll see
what exactly it is that makes you wonder
how that love in your eyes pertains to me.

Alright, so it’s not the best poem in the world. I was bored in math class and I had the song “Give Me Your Eyes” by Brandon Heath running through my mind. I kind of let my pen wander while I was taking notes, and I pretty much found this poem scrawled at the edge of my paper.