I miss you even if I don't know who you are.
I miss your face and your voice and your smile and you.
I miss your everything.
I miss everything you are and ever were and I miss
every single thing you have never, ever been.
I miss you because I don't know you,
or maybe I miss you because I know--knew-- you so well.
Imissyoumissyou.
I feel empty without you, even if we have not met
because there's the gap that you will need to fill; the
gap that will be there when you are gone.
I miss the way you made me feel, the ways you will
make me feel.
I long for your touch, your presence.
I miss you and me, even if we have never had a chance to happen.
I'll miss you when we have happened.
In the end it seems that I'm forever missing you.
I was really into Neruda when I wrote this. Don't know if it shows, but I was.
Just to show off my cursive. (For Jac)
Relishing my last (late) nights of freedom.
A best friend taught me to never sleep.
Always said it was for the weak.
I don't sleep much because I don't want to miss out.
I hold hands with insomnia, anyway.
With all the time we spend together we're practically engaged.
Only practically.
3:40 AM
I like hearing the crickets outside my window; they remind me I'm home.
I like 3 AM because everyone is asleep beside(s) me.
The light posts are on and the street is quiet.
A rush of salt and ocean breeze.
East coast nights.
Seagulls are napping but it's playtime for cats and gators.
Used up pens and ink-stained hands.
I'm working on perfecting the art of my 3:30 scrawl.
It's mostly loops and curves.
Slurred the alphabet.
For someone who loves nighttime, you'd think I'd be a little less afraid of the dark.
Remind me:
I've got the stars to lead me home.
3:47 AM
2 AM is when bar-goers and harlots lurk.
I'm not sure how I'd do in New York if it's the city that never sleeps.
Someone is always on the prowl.
4 o'clock loses the magic of three; it's for the Early Birds, not the Night Owls.3 in the morning is the purgatory between party goers and early risers.
It's my home.
A best friend taught me to never sleep.
Always said it was for the weak.
I don't sleep much because I don't want to miss out.
I hold hands with insomnia, anyway.
With all the time we spend together we're practically engaged.
Only practically.
3:40 AM
I like hearing the crickets outside my window; they remind me I'm home.
I like 3 AM because everyone is asleep beside(s) me.
The light posts are on and the street is quiet.
A rush of salt and ocean breeze.
East coast nights.
Seagulls are napping but it's playtime for cats and gators.
Used up pens and ink-stained hands.
I'm working on perfecting the art of my 3:30 scrawl.
It's mostly loops and curves.
Slurred the alphabet.
For someone who loves nighttime, you'd think I'd be a little less afraid of the dark.
Remind me:
I've got the stars to lead me home.
3:47 AM
2 AM is when bar-goers and harlots lurk.
I'm not sure how I'd do in New York if it's the city that never sleeps.
Someone is always on the prowl.
4 o'clock loses the magic of three; it's for the Early Birds, not the Night Owls.3 in the morning is the purgatory between party goers and early risers.
It's my home.
39 Lines (because I like to One Up, but quantity is never better than quality)//For Jac
For Jac. Always.
Late nights and thoughts shared.
It starts as messy cursive and evolves to careful, typed messages.
Sometimes 140 characters or less. That's okay, I only need 15.
We're dynamite.
Isn't it always boys being great and us being bad?
(But I've always been a sucker for baby blues).
It's always 'Everyone is changing.' and not for the better.
Ground me like an anchor, weigh me down, watch me choke.
"You look so good in blue..."
Running away never solved my problems but I sure do love the way my lungs burn.
If I could run forever, I'd run from my problems and to you.
"She's an East Coast Baby, I'm a Pacific Girl."
It's eating and escaping to parties and the sea (even if the traffic is killer).
Even if she won't remember what you want on your sandwich, I will.
I'd make you all the food you can eat.
East Coast Treasures.
Let's build a sandcastle in my backyard, baby,
Where we can live on the beach and let the tide sweep in.
We can search for buried treasure and when the salt water sweeps us up,
We'll forget where we've been
'You make me want to be a better me'
So don't ever stop being who you are or I'm stuck.
Stay true, stay you.
Baby Girl can't fall asleep (again).
4:30 AM but she's still counting her sheep. She doesn't realize,
"Sleeping is for the weak."
Too young to die.
"Some people value money, I value time."
Father Time is only so kind.
It's chipped nail polish and crickets at my window.
Car alarms and coffee cups.
Cigarettes and California air.
Baby, I live by the sea. All I ever smell is the ocean.
Lemme tell you, you can't get Ocean Breeze in a candle.
Be my map, be my guide. Let me wrap around you,
Like an invasive vine.
I wrote it out on bathroom stalls.
'Can you miss what you have never known?'
But you're all I've ever known.
Late nights and thoughts shared.
It starts as messy cursive and evolves to careful, typed messages.
Sometimes 140 characters or less. That's okay, I only need 15.
We're dynamite.
Isn't it always boys being great and us being bad?
(But I've always been a sucker for baby blues).
It's always 'Everyone is changing.' and not for the better.
Ground me like an anchor, weigh me down, watch me choke.
"You look so good in blue..."
Running away never solved my problems but I sure do love the way my lungs burn.
If I could run forever, I'd run from my problems and to you.
"She's an East Coast Baby, I'm a Pacific Girl."
It's eating and escaping to parties and the sea (even if the traffic is killer).
Even if she won't remember what you want on your sandwich, I will.
I'd make you all the food you can eat.
East Coast Treasures.
Let's build a sandcastle in my backyard, baby,
Where we can live on the beach and let the tide sweep in.
We can search for buried treasure and when the salt water sweeps us up,
We'll forget where we've been
'You make me want to be a better me'
So don't ever stop being who you are or I'm stuck.
Stay true, stay you.
Baby Girl can't fall asleep (again).
4:30 AM but she's still counting her sheep. She doesn't realize,
"Sleeping is for the weak."
Too young to die.
"Some people value money, I value time."
Father Time is only so kind.
It's chipped nail polish and crickets at my window.
Car alarms and coffee cups.
Cigarettes and California air.
Baby, I live by the sea. All I ever smell is the ocean.
Lemme tell you, you can't get Ocean Breeze in a candle.
Be my map, be my guide. Let me wrap around you,
Like an invasive vine.
I wrote it out on bathroom stalls.
'Can you miss what you have never known?'
But you're all I've ever known.
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