Untitled - because I can't think of one.

I.
Remember,
the first day we met,
The day my smile met your frown;
a look you reserved for strangers,
like a makeshift warning sign
to say you had no intention
of ever letting anyone in.

You can't fool me.

II.
I saw a softness
that you hid so well,
Those eyes gave you away,
Dark eyes that could
make my heart sway,
in a way I never wanted
because I too am vulnerable,
susceptible to overlooking flaws
of those I choose to care about.

I kept smiling anyway.

III.
We both know,
Cookie cutter isn't your style ,
like how you relish in uncomfortable
...........silences...........
And that first time I saw you cry,
my soul withered, trickled down
each painful tear track that
traced every line of your face.
I wanted to stretch my arms wide,
to let you nestle in,

So you wouldn't have to remember.

IV.
I've studied you,
in each moment,
every nook and cranny,
latched on to your broken road map
of long lost dreams you dared not forget,
as if learning them could bring us closer.
I saw strength in your weakness, friend.

You will always shine in my eyes.

V.
I catch myself
captivated often
observant in your moments
of wicked humor.
I could laugh for hours at
your misquoted movie lines,
at that croaky out of tune voice
in every song that you chime,
and even your cranky morning scowl
before coffee and cigarettes touched your lips.

I saw all that as perfection in you.

VI.
I don't remember when or how or why,
but your hello was all I looked forward to.
I know it is easy to remain oblivious
to the stirring of my heart as it dangled
on the corner of your smile, like hopeful lips
awaiting kisses that may never come.
Just remember that my arms are always open,
you can always treat me as your home.
Look to me for light in your darkness.

We aren't strangers anymore.

VII.
Today, you told me you might be leaving.
I forced my arms to wish you well,
We joked about your impetuousness
and the non-existent postcards
you might send to me and I
laughed harder as we stood there.
Laughter that stemmed from
feeble strength hiding a dull ache
suspended in between
this crevice of my chest.

How can emptiness take up so much space?
and no memory could ever fill this void.