he told me mood rings were from the 70's and that i should stop living in the past

but he's not giving me any reason to live in the now...

he isn't offering his hand for me to hold

nor is he licking his lips looking at mine

why should i leave the past, a time of free love?

no one else is worried about this fixation.

he told me my huge ring was so 70's and out of place at the college dive-bar we drank at...

so i clocked him in the face with it.

hope is like a lamp
glowing in the dark and leading the way
sure, it can be turned off
or eventually burn out
but never for long
because eventually
someone comes along and puts in a new bulb
one that burns brighter than those before.

you were my first stormy sea
the first time i ever had all hands on deck
i still haven't weathered you
but i let you rock my boat
knowing that regardless of whether i stay afloat
or capsize
i know i'll still make it safely ashore
i know how to swim
i can hold my breath
and i can withstand the cold
i have in the past
and just like before,
this storm will also end.

falling asleep with the taste of mimosa still sweet on my tongue and waking up to the smell of muffins and you hasn't happened in a while. i wish i had bottled your scent or at least savored our mornings more. 
i didn't know you'd leave
and go so far 
for so long
but truthfully, even if i had 
i doubt i would've acted differently.
i would've still been as rash as i was back then
never stopping to let it all settle in
i still haven't settled.

ladylike glove-covered hands
texting un-ladylike messages
to handsome almost strangers
who might as well be lovers
if only their texting could amount
to anything more than smiles
kept to oneself behind the privacy
of their telephone screen
if they were to meet in person
and had to face one another
those ladylike gloves
would be left at the door
underneath a pile of their clothing

the only time i found
the sound of rain soothing...
i couldn't stay in bed
and enjoy it.
my alarm rang and i knew
i had to get up, run and go
to work in it.
since then, i pray for rain
so i can lay in bed
and enjoy it.
only
it's lost its magic.
instead of soothing and
calming
all i hear is the
drip drip of the drops
and the howling
of the wind
through the trees

sometimes i wish the world didn't stop
when night falls
talks at the dining table,
drinking hot chocolate,
illuminated by the moon
instead of curling up in separate beds.
no matter how together people can be
during the day
it's at night
when being alone
becomes painfully clear

this, i believe, is why midnight showings,
twenty-four hour diners
and long, nighttime drives
were invented.
to prolong the time between cold sheets