Jan 01


I wrote on my hand today,
just so I’d remember 
that another year is actually gone.

The warm tears
on my face tonight
felt good. The man
in the moon
knows that tears
aren’t always for sorrow,
and they weren’t,
you wouldn’t allow me sadness,
your too happy for that. 

I like how you smile 
whenever our eyes meet, 
your laught is indescribable:
it makes me happy 
even now with salt
drying on my face. 

Your not afraid of the dark
but sometimes I think to much, 
sometimes I make people
into something their not...
you know
I’m hopelessly romantic,
occasionally you get the best of me,
but it’s better you
than the silence. 

Do you like the way
my name looks
scrawled next to yours? 
Do you like the way
your eyes light up
when our hands touch?
Do you like the way
my heart races
when your name 
is shivered to me
late at night
by the almost-full-moon? 

This was supposed
to be about
another year passing
but your too captivating
to be told to whisper.