I hate time. I wish it would stop.
I wish time would pause, take a break, and forget to restart.
I wish that the hands on the clock would inexplicably stop ticking their way through moments that will never come back and that the squares on every calendar were occupied with events that would never occur.
I wish that the future didn't exist so that my days with you were countless.
I wish that time would simply stop so that my life with you was endless.
Tag: You
Maybe
Yes, maybe now it doesn't feel the same.
Maybe now everything has changed and shifted to the places once unknown to us.
Places so distant that now we feel closer as strangers than we ever felt as we did together. Maybe each day my feelings have evolved into emotions that I never thought my brain could possibly possess.
But maybe now it somehow all feels better.
Maybe now everything is how it always should have been.
Retellings
Sometimes you begin to tell me a story that you've already told me, but I let you continue.
I just nod, smiling, appearing as though everything you're telling me is brand new. Yet if I'm being honest, I don't truly listen to the words. I listen just enough so that I seem attentive, I keep my responses bland and short.
However, I use those times to study you, encapsulate your voice, absorb all your mannerisms and expressions. I watch the way you create each syllable rather than hear the meaning behind them. I focus on everything about you except the content of your speech.
For those precious moments I will never stop you from retelling me your story.
I'm simply grateful to be able to hear you tell them to me twice.
Rabbit Hole
You followed me down
the rabbit hole.
My selfish hand found yours
and I led you into the darkness.
Quietly...
Recklessly...
Blindly.
I should have known that
I wouldn't be able to guide myself...
Let alone the both of us.
Nostalgia
I am nostalgic for that day,
even though it never existed.
In reality we were never there.
We never walked down that street under fluorescent lights. We never sat surrounded by bushes on that wrought iron bench.
Your hands never felt mine, our bodies never touched, and our eyes never did meet.
That day...
Those moments...
All those memories are fictitious.
Yet somehow, someway,
I still remain able to miss it.
Pedestal
Once I have put you on a pedestal
you will not come back down gracefully.
I will destroy what I've built you up upon
and you will fall by force.
The foundation that held you up so high
will crumble as I decimate the mortar
with bloody, broken hands.
And you will lay there
dazed and confused...
Surrounded by nothing but dust.
Strangers
We met as strangers,
but once we learned
each other's names
the rest quickly followed.
All of our likes and dislikes...
the things that made us tick...
our dreams, our strengths,
our pasts, our pains...
We grew together,
but then we fell apart.
Now we will leave one another
the same way we once met.
Midnight
At midnight her slippers
did more than disappear.
The fantasized facade fell away
and the eggshells she'd been walking on
returned directly under her feet.
She moved on reluctantly.
The hands of the clock
restarting more than what
they had ended.
Burden
She didn't want to go,
but she knew she couldn't stay.
How could she remain in a place
where her love had become
such an awful burden?
Sweatshirt
Memories linger between
the threads of my sweatshirt.
Glimpses of lilac-clothed moments
retained within the stitches of
a cotton-polyester blend.
Simple fabric now consoling me
from my mind's wanderings to you.
AO Poetry 
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