I haven't thought about you in a long while, you know.
At least not in that way.
I thought about giving up on you, because all it did
was tear be down from my high stance.

but lately,
as in the past twenty four hours lately,
I can't get you off of my mind.
something is changing in the atmosphere
and I want you to be here to calm it.

it's been a year and a half
since the last time it was there, and
suddenly it shows up again.
perhaps it was just a hallucination,
perhaps it was your guilty concious clawing at the walls,
perhaps it was the fact that I now ignore you

whatever the reason,
I dont believe it was ever there at all
I think you just missed seeing it.

I want a pill that makes me numb
I've got two to stop the blood,
Six to make me sleep,
and 2, twice a day, to make me smile.

where's the one that encompasses it all
entitled "I dont give a fuck"

I dislike this eeiry silence
the wave of ackwardness
each of us choose our words with the highest skill
it's gotten so weird now.
I want to wrap you in bubble wrap
protect you from the world and harsh reality,
I want to tuck you under fleece and cellophane,
to sheild you from this winter.
I want to say my words with ease, and
make you smile with every one
...and make this disembodied emotion turn to laughter
which neither of us can control.
I want to see that silly smile of yours, again
and again
and again
and again
and never want to see it fade.
We need you here, and happy and radiating.
We love you no matter where
no matter how
no matter who you are,
but for your own benefit,
We need the old you back.

--We all love you more than you'll ever know, Mississippi. Remember we're always here for you, whenever and where ever. If we ever lose you, I dont know what we'd do. I dont think I've ever been so scared.

its nights like these, when the air smells like wood, and the sky is dark before it hits five;
that you sit here, like a bump on a log, writing silly little poems, with little to no meaning.
and it's hours like these, that go by so slow, with nothing to do, writhing in darkness
that I'd give up my life, to lift up that phone, and hear your soft voice- on the other end.
but alas,
its nights like these when I've lost all of my courage to dial your number and wait on the line.

when I wake up in the middle of the night,
completely kill my senses with a couple of sleeping pills,
only to wake up an hour later and decide just to stay up-
I know you're still asleep.
and i'd do anything just to watch.

I've taken time out of my busy schedual
of falling asleep in class
failing any test that approaches me,
and saying I love you to someone else,
in order to write you a giant metaphor.

but then I remember, I gave up on you,
because you've given up on me
and given up on everything we once had,

and you pretend you don't remember the nights when it rained;
....the days it was dark;
....the weeks that were silent.
and you pretend you don't remember the months I was there, when
you brush pass me in the hall...
and turn your gaze to anything else.

thats fine, lovely.
because I pretend I remember the nights when it was clear
...the days that were bright;
...the weeks full of music.
and I pretend I remember the months you were there, when
I'm sleeping in someone else's bed...
and telling him stories to let him know he's superior.

but the trouble is I only pretend to, because I don't remember
I do,
however,
recall how I don't like grapes; and how tiny your penis is...
because things like that you can never forget.

its only when you walk down the hall,
with your confident stride
that may- or may not- actually be confident
that my eyes ever let go of their focus
on my hands.

and its not until you turn the corner
that there gaze ever returns
to their previous position

has anyone ever told you you're captivating?

i was reading through
books upon books upon binders of poetry
and it came to my attention
how very different everyone writes, yet
at the same time, they all have everything in common.
that's when I realized I have nothing in common.
that's when I closed the books;
and threw out the binder.

this is where I give up
and go back on my word,
and trace over steps in discomforting circles

and this is where we say our goodbyes
to touch the rumors in the wind,
and tuck them into our minds.