asteroid.

Our love was the kind that couldn’t be saved from destruction.

Your eyes always burned through the crowd, shattering my atmosphere.  We came together with an urgency that violated speed restrictions.  You told me “Nobody” and “Nothing” and “No one else” as our lips crashed into the surfaces of each other.

And in the wake of our violent beginning, the end came slowly, and silently—

Long after the ground cracked, the world quaked, and the dust settled.  Like an empire, we were never built to last.  The girls and boys of tomorrow will kick at the dust of our ruins, wondering and guessing about the the monumental scar that remains.

you were my first choice, that i still couldn’t make.

I always wanted it to be you.
But my soul chose the latter between disappointment and the promise of change.

I couldn’t stay, while you stole from me.  You lived in the secrets I brushed across your forehead and through your hair.  You clung to the wilting white frames of us kissing and laughing in corners together.  And maybe you could continue burning on the fumes of my siphoned heart.

But my soul couldn’t.  Even though I always wanted it to be you.
And the truth is, I still do.

dinner for two.

Put the fork down and leave your regrets on the table.
We will not consume them alongside the irritated flicker of candlelight.
We will not justify and correct and shape up our versions of history.

With our country resentfully divided, I lay this treaty upon the borderline:
We were only confused.  We were only mistaken.
We were only hopeful.  We were only in love.
We were only human.