Stupid Song

I heard that stupid song you love today. The twangy one about chicken and blue jeans.
I hate this song, it’s ridiculous. But I couldn’t turn the dial, wouldn’t dare. Because with every word I was reminded of another moment we shared, another second I’d trade ten days for now. Driving with the windows down. Walking through town. Sleeping on the too-small couch together with our bodies tangled. Buying flowers. As it ended, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at my realization that I let the whole damn song play just because it brought me back to you. A stupid song about chicken and blue jeans can bring me back to you and back to my sad realization that I never got to say to you what I had to say. You’ll never know that with those windows down, in that town, during that nap, among those flowers, I was desperately, unstoppably, irrevocably falling in love with you. And now, the closest I come to anything resembling love is flushing when I hear that stupid song about chicken and blue jeans….

Nameless Love

Most nights I’m fine.
I crawl into my bed alone and it’s my choice.
I dream about faraway lands and
Fairy tale times and
Wake to another day
Full with the potential of finally
Saying hello to you.

But some nights I’m
Notsofine.
Sometimes I just want you to hold me,
Laugh with me,
Tell me I’m pretty.
These are the nights when
I get so mad at myself
For not telling you my secret:
I think you are mine!

How do you tell someone
You love them when you
Don’t even know their name?

Thursday Poem

sometimes when it’s been a really long day
and all I want to do is come home,
crawl into your arms
and melt off into love,
it’s all I can do to keep from screaming
and laughing
and crying
all at once at the thought of that flawless,
breath-taking moment when I
finally get to feel the electricity
of your touch,
smell in your smell
and taste all of those amazing, unsaid words
for me on your lips.
touch me again and show me
that easy way in which you
take my whole soul’s world and shake it
to the core as if it were a
tambourine in your lonely heart’s club band.

Full Moon Love

What is it about the full moon
That makes my skin stand
In tiny little bumps
When your breath passes close enough
That I can breathe in the possibilities
That rise and fall with each exhale;
Each goosebump--its own mountain
Of fear, anxiety, disquietude--
Melts into an ocean of touches
When you fold me into you.

Butterflies Gone By

Is it too much to ask for magic? Am I too old to be expecting butterflies anymore? Have I lost the innocence and naivety needed to feel infatuation again? As I lie in bed next to Mr. Perfectforme, I inevitably feel the sneaking snake of doubt come creeping into my mind. I feel guilt for feeling doubt because I should be letting myself go, falling in love, head spinning. But I'm not. I'm thinking of dishes in the sink, presents to be wrapped, e-mails to reply to. When I roll over and sees his amazing baby blues staring at me, I don't get flutters and flickers. Instead, my mind floats back to another time, another place, another set of arms which, when wrapped among, gave me the flutters and flickers. I miss those arms and those feelings. I would give anything to have one more night in those arms, the butterflies flying crazy inside of me.

'Tis the Season for Love

'Tis the season for love and this is one of my favorite little holiday songs to celebrate having someone to smile about this Christmas.

Love and Merry Christmas!

Song: 30 Days by Never Shout Never!

Laying With the Wrong Person

The only way that this will work is if I keep you at bay; don’t let you get inside the wounded, bruised mess that is my heart. When you talk--your words so void of the deepness that I long for--I realize that you are decidedly not the man I should be sleeping next to. I realize that I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life, again. But for whatever reason—your smile, your eyes, your smell—-I can’t bring myself to do the right thing. Just tell you that I am not into this, that you are not what I need right now. Instead, I continue to let you think, believe, feel, get attached. What am I supposed to do? Crawl back to my own bed, alone, cold, unwanted? I’d rather keep you distant but right next to me. Keep the ideal you—-the one I was praying that you would turn into when we met-—in my thoughts and in my mind. Does this make me desperate, shallow, cruel? I’d rather lay with the wrong person knowingly than spend another night alone. I’m a mess of miscalculations and misreadings, but does that mean that I should go back to alone? A brave person would come clean, would admit to only needing you for your embrace. But brave I am not. I am afraid. I am weak-kneed. I am terrified to wake up and realize that I am totally, utterly and completely alone. So I keep you at bay, all the while knowing that you are falling and falling and that I am just waiting for the right moment to slip out into the night, away from you and the bucket of emotions you are poised to pour on me.