Therapy
Do you, 
Reader,
Moan or skim? 
Once you've figured, 
It's another pining, 
Romantic,
Longing, 
Poem all over again. 
Have I become cliche, 
In my day to day routine? 
My writing stale,
With the same message, 
"I want love, 
I want companionship, 
I'm strong,
But oh how I'm weak. 
I smile, 
But I cry, 
And because I'm alone, 
I while away the hours, 
Dreaming of my muse, 
Pathetically criticizing myself, 
For stupid human feelings."
Drama, 
Drama, 
You've read it all before, 
The fear of boring you, 
Of driving you away, 
From my therapeutic sessions of words, 
Spilled out and expressed;
And you act, 
My reader and judge, 
As my therapist, 
Sometimes it's just nice, 
To have someone to talk to.

Just One
You try to convey, 
A lot in just one look, 
Just one hug, 
Just one moment of eyes meeting, 
I try my best, 
But I just can't interpret, 
Can't read your mind, 
But the way you hugged me, 
Or I hugged you, 
Meant something,
Something important. 
Try as I might, 
Your body language is a mystery, 
Like every other part of you, 
But whatever it meant, 
It was the best hug ever. 

Bruised Metaphor
Bruise
Both proud of
And worried of this bruise
Brown and green
Not extremely deep
Sounds just like my heart
In the part where 
You reside, 
Slowly fading 
But still sore to touch. 

Perfect in Every Way
Daydream boyfriend, 
Come to comfort me, 
Come to satisfy, 
My hopeless romantic heart,
Holding me tight.
Thoughts of a mystery man, 
Perfect in every way, 
Funny, 
Smart, 
Respectful and true, 
Unrealistic but what I'm looking for eventually. 
Sometimes there'll be flings, 
Cute handsome characters, 
Strutting through the quagmires, 
The swamp that is my brain. 
They all sweet talk, 
Smooth talking and sharp dressed,
Passionate and strong, 
Charismatic and caring, 
Aka,
Perfect in every way. 
Some are bad boys, 
Others responsible men, 
But mostly they're just head over heels, 
For me, 
And all of them say that I'm: 
"Perfect in every way," 
Making me wonder, 
Maybe I should date myself. 

Unrealistic Future Plans
So my plans aren't realistic, 
Maybe they never were, 
Baby I've never been realistic in the first place. 
So my dreams are nothing more, 
Visions of ghosts, 
Visions of angels in man's clothes.
So my future isn't what I thought, 
Ever changing on me, 
Ever throwing me into the unknown. 
So my hopes are gone, 
Making me wonder why, 
Taking me down again. 
So my plans have been blown away, 
Carried on the winds of chance, 
Buried like my feelings for you. 

Hamilton Center
Traveling across, 
Passing by, 
Heart aches, 
Memories emerge, 
Wonder what's going on, 
What's going on in your mind? 
What's going on with you?
Memories, 
Half my summer spent, 
Spending time with you, 
In this area we drive by. 

Pizza Place
Music fills the silence, 
Smells fill the air, 
And I smile at the melody, 
Sweet memories and future plans, 
The song I'll surely dance to one day, 
A father daughter dance, 
That'll make both cry. 
I exclaim my affection, 
For the tune which plays on, 
Making the woman beside me moan. 
Pain makes her twist away, 
Trying to smile, 
Trying to laugh it off, 
Hurt in her heart, 
Longing for what every girl needs, 
A father. 
News of his passing hit me hard, 
My words spilled earlier tasting sour on my tongue.
My heart bled for her, 
Wanting to take her pain and give her peace. 
Tears sprung to her eyes, 
And she tried to laugh them off, 
Telling everyone she told herself not to cry. 
Instinctively I stepped forward, 
Hugging the woman to my heart, 
Hoping to comfort her, 
Heal her in some way. 
The tenseness of her whole body,
Loosened and relaxed, 
I could feel something let go, 
Feel her walls weaken, 
Her vulnerability, 
I wanted to give her my strength, 
My love, 
My all, 
For all that she had lost, 
I wished her love ten fold.