I write you poems and let you read my writing. Nothing really jumps out and grabs your attention, you say. Need I jump and grab you, pulling you back down to earth? Gravity is a liar. It will never keep you on the ground once you develop wings. Sometimes I sit and daze off and dream. Of you, of course. You don't know it, but I want your hand to accidentally brush against mine. And stay there. You think we're friends. But we never talk. I try to make something of you to hate. Something so I can let go of your jacket so you can go back to where there is no gravity. Do you lie in bed and dream as you daze off or are you staring at me? I don't think you know it but silently i want you to notice me. You sit there with your pretty girlfriend. She's not me. She’s happy. I watch the salt roll down my pale cheeks in the mirror of your apartment. You invited me over. But you’re not here. You get home and you sit there, on your bed. You’re quiet. You don’t say a word and I fell complied to pry the words out of you. But I don’t because I want you to tell me on your own. You stare off into space and I wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve. The sleeve I wear my heart on for you. Remember that time you told me nothing grabbed your attention? Well, it wasn’t up for grabs.
March 22, 2011