One Hundred and Eighty Eight

It happens, you know.
it
I mean it does
happen.

some people
not everyone but some
some people wake up beside the same person every day, still just as if not moreso in love as they were the day beforehand. Some people are wonderous and lucky and so aware of it.
isn't that enough? It should be.
it will be.
for me.

I will wake up every morning,
luckier than the night I just passed in warm arms.

One Hundred and Eighty Seven

I remember this one time you wondered
why two people who loved each other
enjoy being physically close.

And I smirked
and wrapped an arm around you
bringing you closer
I'd think of an answer another day.

I think
maybe
as naive
as horrendously sappy as it sounds
maybe
I think
I mean I guess I
I think maybe
it feels like
Yes
Maybe because it feels like
there's a little piece missing, a dip in my heart, a little curve on the side, a missing piece, like it's been chipped off. And there's the same kind of..missing part in yours, too. And when we get closer..it's like they link together. It's like they
fit
together.
And suddenly it's like we can breathe. I mean we could before. But now we can breathe in..in a different way. Like breathe..in a way that we were always meant to, maybe.

is that silly?
it sounds silly.
i feel silly.

One Hundred and Eighty Six

I had a dream about you last night.

You walked by me, in your bright red/orange coat.

Now's about the time you would start wearing it.
Fall/Spring.
You wear it tight around your waist and loose below, loose above.
Never a scarf.
Maybe you've never found one you like.

You walked by me, in your bright red/orange coat.
I wonder if you'll ever do that.
Walk by me
and we can just
be

around each other.

One Hundred and Eighty Five

You know what though, if I were being totally and completely honest?

If one day you just walked across the campus and set aside all the eye flirting, just had an off-day, or a weird day, a day for action or just a really great day, and you decided to just go for it, once and for all, cos I'm graduating, cos it's been quite a long time, cos you've grown quite curious

for whatever reason on whatever day,

if one moment you decide to walk over and grab me and kiss me, only to walk away immediately after with that strut you strut, that smile you smile,

I'd be all for that.

One Hundred and Eighty Four

I can't do that.
I can't be that person, anymore.
I can't be this person who puts work in front of everything.

everything

everyone.

I can't.

It's exhausting.

it's emptying.

it's exhausting.

it leaves no room for feeling

for reality

for happiness.

One Hundred and Eighty Three

The one thing I have never doubted

though

is the limit of audio in writing.

There is something about hearing

about listening

there is something about noises and sounds

that words can never capture.

The sound of sobbing. The sound of someone's heart cracking open, the sound of trust being broken, disbelieving gasps and cries of agony, lost in turmoil.

and the sound of love. The smacking of teeth and laughter. Laughter, relaxed and unforced. Smiling, the slipping of top and bottom lips when you can hear the smile on a phone, eyes being pushed together, you can hear them being pushed together.

The sound of trust. Comfortable sighs and unhurried yawns. Fumbling hands and firm grips, and easy bodies and loud agreements of inside jokes and conclusive sounds.

No, words can only capture so much.
I have never doubted this.
Words cannot capture what ears can do.