This is my own poetry. Some of it is sappy, some of it is silly, and then there is
the rest. I will be adding some more soon. Any criticism is welcome. Please do not copy
this without asking me first. If you have any comments, feel free to email me.
Anytime I add on, I'll mark the poem 
Thoughts About Him
I sometimes wonder if you'd still recognize me
if we passed on the street,
or met at the store.
(perhaps in the cereal aisle)
Would you still know me?
I'm not that little girl anymore,
who built forts from sheets
and made paper missles to bombard your thoughts.
I am an adult.
I am my own creation,
neither good nor bad.
And you are a part of my past
and a part of what I have become.
I miss our past.
Those lazy days,
shallow and carefree.
Forever to be replayed in my mind
as a surrogate to memories that won't become.
I wonder if I'd still know you.
In dreams your face is vivid.
But sometimes, my mind is fuzzy
and I struggle.
(were your eyes really that blue?)
It sometimes feels that you
were never a part of my life.
I can go weeks without remembering,
but when I do, the pain is acute.
I miss you.
I still miss you.
Even after all these years
of just not knowing
and wondering if you miss me too.
I have so many questions.
And I hope to one day ask them.
Face to face with what I thought was lost.
And I pray that I'll not just recognize you,
but know you again.
Untitled
He wasn't my type.
He was loud
and aggressive with words.
He spoke quickly
and spoke his mind.
He laughed openly
and often.
He smiled frequently
and flirted.
He wasn't my type.
Then he said hello.
And I
with the heart of glass
melted.
And even though
he wasn't my type
I played his fierce game
of flirting
and smiling
and laughing
till it didn't matter
that he wasn't my type.
All that did
was he had my heart.
Untitled
If only I could dream
the way I use to.
Full, vibrant images
of fairy tale stories.
Reality is harsh and unkind
and spelled out plainly
in black and white.
No prince is coming.
My Place
Its an incredible feeling
to know
if only for one second
that you are home.
That maybe for the first time and
maybe for the last time
you've found your place.
And life
is what you make it.
The Crush
His name feels like poetry
dripping from my lips
I don't feel I have the right
to say it aloud
Still, I whisper it
like a secret
like a sin
Strangely amused
at my own childish game
Again, it escapes from my lips
as if it has its own will
its own power
propelled across the night
echoing against the wall
I smile
remembering the sound
the feel of his name
Wishing
to feel more
The Hunted
Contemplating Death
as if it were a person
or a place
that I should meet one day
on a street
Or go happily too
like a vacation
I wonder what it should be like
pain or ecstacy?
Will I have guilt or remorse as my guide
through the tacky tour of my memories?
I would like to know
To ask Death what it wants
and what it will be
but Death is cold and silent
and unmovable to my inquires
Death is not the great hunter
as man has been made to believe
Death does not stalk
It does not need to
We come to it.
Almost
I almost had forever.
Almost.
And I'm not even sad
or angry.
Just resigned.
That's the worst part --
exceptance.
Does that make me a fool
or weak?
Or worse...
I don't want to think about it.
I'll just know
I almost had forever.
But
I let it go.
Untitled
Today was much like yesterday
Like any day
Like every day
And perhaps all those that will follow
Slow and careless -- it moved past me
Unheeding to my calls
Unanswering to my pleas
Drifting away from me like
autumn leafs newly fallen in the breeze
And there I am
chasing after them
After all my days
all my nights
all my nows
When I know it best
to look for tommorow
Untitled
I'll try to think of twilight
When the stars, they seem so near
It'd be easier to touch them
Then to think that your not here
Or I'll remember how in autumn
All the leafs turn red and gold
How I'd grab them by the handful
Still its you I want to hold
I'm a fool, I saw it coming
I knew this day would be
It was just a matter of time
Before you'd be leaving me
So I'll think about the summer
How the clouds drift on and on
And I'll try to take my mind off
The fact that you are gone.
So Clear
Sometimes its so clear
I'm there -- living the memory
Crisp wind on my face
The light of the stars and moon
reflecting endlessly on the water
and in you eyes
My hand in yours
Sand between my toes
as we strolled the beach
Like we were all there was of the world
I love that thought
of memories never lived
Dreams untold are the saddest
It could have been any summer
but it wasn't
My summers have always been for dreaming
and remembering stories I wont live
I would cry for my past if I had the will
But tears are denied me
Pity -- a luxary unaffordable
Instead I dream untold dreams
of beaches
and stars
and you
In my mind I've lived it out
And in my mind -- I know better than to believe
But my heart
My heart beats on its own
And in my heart I lived those memories
One summer
one night
one dream
And sometimes its so clear
