I feel like some dead poet

NaNoWriMo is for me! Yes indeed! Finally an excuse to get everything out of my head! I'm so bad! I walk around Wal-mart and ideas for a book or something of the sort will come to my head. I'm sure people think I'm crazy watching me walk along, mouthing the words to myself! I'm going to go set up my book blog and make sure it works and all...blah dee blah. Besides that, I'm really confused about my dear, dear friend. I guess I'll need to see him again to know for certain everything! I'm so excited that it will be Nov. 1st soon! I'm so ready to write a book!

A poem

Here's a little poem I wrote while at the community college today. The inspiration was this lovely boy who looked quite like a dear friend of mine. I think I'm going to call it "Did I..." It's not the greatest thing I've ever written, but I wanted it to be seen. Leave comments. :) So, without any further ado:

Did I mention I'm in love?
One more extension of his hand
into my life,
enough to make most wrongs right.

Seven times seventy.
Please forgive me
and stretch out that lovely hand
into my life.

Did I call out your name?
One more confession of my mouth
and blinded eyes,
enough to make me waste my time.

Perfect blue,
perfect like you,
we travel in circles
to perfect our comfort.

Did I show you my scars
and the small marks upon my arm
that, now, only I can see?
But you still tried to protect me.

(I'm close enough to know
all the secrets you've not told.
I'm far enough away
to hear all you've got to say.)

C'mon, let's run away.
I can be who I've always been
again,
again and again.

again,
again and again.

again,
again and again.
Is that enough?

So, there you have it. Sorry it's not better.

...but then...

...but then you could never feel that warmth there by your side. No one's imagination is quite that good, believe me, I've tried. I used to have two blankets on my bed to help me sleep at night. It all started quite by accident. You see, I was cleaning and my thought was "Well, a blanket should go on a bed. I'll just move it to a better place later." But later didn't come for a long while. That extra blanket just stayed beside me; it was asleep like I was soon to be. It took on a life of its own for a while. Like it could breathe, like it could sing me lullabies. But it didn't have hands, and it never woke up. It was in a coma. It was as good as dead.

I blame it all on him. He was so marvelous, and I knew I was in love with him. Just as well as I knew I loved him, I knew, without a doubt he loved me. I spent that summer awake, when I should have been asleep. I spent those years trapped inside his beautiful eyes. And my hands were held for a time. And I dreamed of when I was older and he and I were wed. I was not afraid of the future, because to think on it did not make me face my fear of being alone.

Then winter came. I lived inside of that winter so long. I faced that awful fear. That love I had been so certain of was stripped away. I should have just forgotten it was there in the first place, but how do you forget something that brought such comfort and happiness? Everything I said and did revolved around that love. It was so cold. And I, I was cold too. Silence settled in and robbed me of my smile. I was dead just like his love for me. I was dead just like that blanket.

There is good all around, how fortunate for me. And there is love everywhere. Now I am the criminal, leading that loveless boy on for a time. I am no better than he was. And while my love is real, it is not the brand which he had hoped for. He only loves me because I am a sure thing. He only loves me because I am constantly the same, unchanged.

But one day...I'll be wholy loved and give all the love inside of me in return.

Everything I write sounds the same.

Cold again

"I like the cold"...yes, but not the cold hands screwed upon my arms. They are unheld; it is not right that they're unheld.

"It's beautiful, who is she?"...must be some other. And for a moment, I could have sworn a poem was finally written for me. No, indeed. Why would I be the inspiration for something of such beauty?

"How many hath loved you dear?"...Think on it for a while. I am a thief, though never did I plan to be. But I will say this: I have left no heart broken, and, at least in that, I have done some good. What other good I have done can't be found, as it seems I'm only good at making messes.

"And my heart shall be forever blue"...to match you. Someday someone will be in love with me, and I'll be informed only to get to say, "Oh, my dear! I'm in love with you too!" How sweet would the world be then?

How sweet would the world be if I had my beloved at long last? I grab at the air thinking it will bring him. I pray every night that I'll finally get to meet him. You'd think you'd know, but I don't know.

...am I leading you on?...