love

why cant men limit their affections

to those hours of waking up

instead of letting them contaminate

our hours apart

why do men look for love

where there is none to give

insist that they can change

what is set in stone

lost... not found

Where is the tenderness I seek

Is it under nails, like dirt,

On turmeric-stained fingers?

Will I find it if I scream my voice hoarse

In a tranquil forest that does not talk back?

Is it, perhaps, lost beneath photo albums

Moments from long ago yellowing with age?

Was it put away by mistake with dusty Christmas

Ornaments, no longer taken out once a year?

silence

You once promised to share your poetry with me

"Let me send them to you"

You never did

That was the last time we really spoke, you know?

A few, tired words as the sun readied itself

For another day

Your world is made up of words

You pluck them like ripe fruit

Arrange them like constellations

Weave them together like yarn

And yet, when I sit next to you

Look for the tiniest morsel of

Hope? Interest? Reciprocation?

Acknowledgment of what once was

What could have been?

I don't even know

You have no words to give me

None at all

Word of the day: logophile

a lover of words

Phobia

a quick google search tells me that

the ten most common phobias include

ophidiophobia: an intense fear of snakes

aerophobia: an intense fear of flying

astraphobia: an intense fear of thunder and lightening

agoraphobia, social phobia, mysophobia

and so on

but what about the fear that keeps us up late at night?

forces us to change our ways, settle for less?

makes us choose the wrong people, live the wrong lives?

what about that intense fear of loneliness

that blooms from our skin, little forget-me-nots

deceptively delicate, and yet so eager to grow?