The Crescent's Edge

I wrote you but you'll never receive it
Not because you jump faster than you listen but because I will never tell you
I will never tell you about the poems half written because halfway through I realized it'd get misinterpreted anyway
I will never tell you about the nights I spent half sleeping half dreaming of you half wishing I could have one fucking night where sleep would come as natural as death to these fantasies that I dare entertain when the realities of these nightmares keep me from love
They wane with the moon but often my dreams are full of a vast nothingness that is my subconscious
and I submit to these words these whims and love you back with all I have,
though I am not enough for myself and still I am not enough for your love

When eye meets eye is where we'll meet.

December

Act 2
I slow down so I can love you
It's a race between heart rate, the start of class and your fingers as they they work to compose the most generic of symphonies depicting your love for me
My mission to conquer the injustices of the world brakes and I love you
Hallways hear the pause in my stride, feel the remorse in my sighs and ghosts of past lessons silently watch me lose track

November

Act 1
I wake up
YOU
Quickly
Frantically
Erratically
Searching
Scouring
Chasing
Time
Stops
At long last
Found
Composed
Send
"Good morning baby"
Breathe

“The moon stay quiet but the sun spoke, 
Still can’t blow away the pain with the blunt smoke …”

Winter

Weathered leaflets of my joy 

Momma knows 

Each fall felt through the earth 

Memories once evergreen and pure

Worn by the world 

Once in a windy while they stir 

Wailing, I am still here 

Passerby's stroll along, 

Cursing the frost along their sole and the hail in their eyes

Barrenness never made for favorable conditions

But I promise you 

Snow will melt 

Spring will come 

And I will learn how to love again

Dream House

I think she said she needed a place where she could feel free

So I cleaned up the valleys of my heart and scoured mountain views in preparation for the house that would never be built

I had hoped that it’d be enough

But she was immeasurable

My love for her could not amount to the longing she had to live

My love for her could not compare to her dreams

My love for her could not compare to the love she had for the world

My love for her had her frigid in deprivation, had her heated by lust

My love, my love, my love

Won’t you come home 

4:16

The son has yet to rise and still

I am here

I've never been one to wait 

Always been one to weigh 

The cost and value of you

And though I wish for more 

I value what has come and though I had anticipated more 

I thrive

The inconsistency you brought me taught me fact 

Actions over words, you affirmed that 

And you confirmed the base of me 

Never had I questioned the worth of me 

Until you stood, solid, surprised and evaluated that which I was before you 

Your tongues

Murmuring softly in pythagoream,
No matter what you believe you gained, you lost

Substitutes understood small quantities of the love I have for you

And I crave you, still 

And you know not, still

I owe you more of me but this will have to do