My friend just told me that she loved me,
But I don't think she loves me the way I love her.
"I love you too."
But I do love her,
I love the way she always knows what I'm talking about,
And the way she tells me all of her secrets
Because she knows I keep them right next to mine.
"You're my best friend, I love you so much"
She responds with her head resting on my shoulder.
The words I say have no meaning,
Because I know I don't love her the way she loves me.
[This is a reposted edited version of a previous poem of mine.]
when all we have is spent–
what will we have left?
people once before us–
i walked down the street
the streets i once used to know
filled with regrets and heavy with burdens
of what once happened here
i walked down the street
a block or so down
I believe in god even though I may know he doesn’t exist
I know the mountains were not formed by him
Instead it is the science in the world
The reason we are here in this moment
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