business proposals in a hookah lounge

he was philosophical
the way any person is when they're high.

he wore black framed glasses
and talked too much;
which i kind of liked.
he said my name made me sound like a classy stripper.
i chose to take it as a compliment.

i didn't ask his age
though i wish i had.

he talked passionately about
aquatonics and molly.
he said he was starting up a business.

maybe i was flattered that he thought i was cute
or maybe he was generally interesting.
i'm not sure though.
all i can remember is the way the hookah tasted
as the music faded out.

Kissing Nerds

This is for the boys that don't get poems written about them.
The ones with bad acne and figurine collections.
Because one day you'll outgrow your acne
and a girl will find you charming instead of awkward.
And she'll want you to kiss her but you'll be too nervous.
But she'll be nervous too.

Favourite Person Ever

He said: "Of all the chat sites in all the internet, she walked into the one I happen to use."
He was drunk when they first spoke.
But she was too enthralled by the fact that he thought she had good taste in music to notice.
It had taken her years to train her ears to appreciate the sound of a bass solo
and learn to distinguish the no name bands worth knowing, from those that were not.

She had an appreciation for clavicles
and wrote too many poems about what love was, wasn't, and should be.
She liked to pretend that she hated cliches, yet her favorite movie was chalk full of them.

She said: "I dig you."
She dug so many things about him.
He had so much worth digging.
His love of the ocean and all things aquatic.
His green-grey eyes.
His general lack of amusement with things of the romantic sort.

He was too sincere to ever use lols
and fancied himself most competitive cooking shows.
And though he'd never driven a car, he had been para-sailing.

She said: "You're my person."
He said" "Make the world your person."
So they continued on in their mutual amusement,
exchanging selfies, sweaters and songs.
They spoke a unique language consisting of
puns
snark
lyrics
and innuendo.

5 A.M. Boys Part II

He was a boy with beautiful eyes
and an appreciation for colorful socks and generic tea.

A boy that played the drums and went to festivals.
The kind of festivals that left him longing for a proper shower
and his mother's pork belly stew.

He dyed his hair a fitting shade of black
And though he was underwhelmed by the idea of anything romantic
his use of smiley emoticons was enough to make up for it.

He taught me the importance of learning to appreciate cheap wine
and the power of using compliments sparingly.

He was the kind of boy that would be fun to spoon,
or so I assume
because I've never met him.

Venom and compliments.

Give me your
Approval.
I need
Validation.
I need a hug
The way
Daddy needs a drink.

I take in all
The sounds
Sights
Feelings
Tastes
Smells
And overdose like the sick boy
That forgot how to smile.
Maybe he was never shown how.

The cancer spreads to my throat
And chokes my words.
I spit up venom
And poison all my relationships.
Now I am alone.

Call my bluff
But don't tell me I'm pretty
Because I won't believe you.
I don't take compliments from strangers.

I wasn't expecting a wizard.

For a moment all I see is a broken little boy
that grew up without a dad.
I want to tell him it's not his fault.
I want to tell him
that dads are overrated.
We can share mine if you'd like.

But before I can slip behind the curtain
that keeps your true self hidden from the world
you put up caution tape
and say it's off limits.

As if I don't already know you're not the great and powerful Oz.
I don't care.
Because I'm not Dorthy.

          How do you mourn for someone who hasn’t died?

               For someone that’s alive and well,

            And worst of all – without you.

       How do you let go of something

   You swore to hold onto?

                When you build someone up in your mind

            It’s so hard to demolish what you’ve created.

       I’ll pretend I don’t know who you are

  The next time I see you around town.

            I’ll pretend I’m not jealous

        When I hear you’re with wife and child.

   I’ll pretend I don’t hope you’re a wreck without me.

And I’ll pretend I didn’t mourn