In a surreal way,
I remember talking about some very real things.
I remember looking at you from across the couch,
seeming like miles away,
but here all at once,
again.
You had been gone a long time
& I was just starting to end
lingering thoughts of you,
But your memory hit me 
like an unexpected sting
& then there you were,
on my couch,
Telling me you had been miles away
& you had felt that way
but you're here now
all at once,
again.

You want more. 
More
tattoos,
money,
respect,
sexual adventures.
You want more to
discover,
drink,
experience.
You want 
to be the star
but left alone.
You want
the bills to let you rest
& for the time to,
For your thoughts to escape you.
You want to go back to a photograph, 
To a boy unaware of his circumstances. 
You want to leave 
& pretend your baggage won't come too,
Although passively I'm the same way;
Avoiding my own intuition
& chasing you when you can't stay.

I think of you making pretty girls laugh
& maybe they get to see under your clothes.
Maybe your charm stretches from your tongue
& over their eyes
& vowels shake out of you both all night.
Maybe you love starting over;
the questions are exciting yet polite,
You're only knowing at a certain level,
& it's like you've never met yourself.

Jokes so people love me.               

Jokes so reality doesn't crush me. 

A corner of light 

to stretch across the room 

when the mood is dark.

Sometimes it's not appropriate;

heavy blankets pull over my head.

I anchor myself down.  

Though the thoughtful distance 

into deeper dark

is worth appreciating, 

The way up requires the right energy.

The energy to 

clear the hauntings of past lessons,

shake words that never went anywhere,

& to do this without bruising my own mind.

The energy to forgive myself

for my feelings,

So they may lift my sinking heart 

to higher thoughts.