Why I Can’t Think of Anything to Write

The core of this issue probably has to do with the feeling that I get when I’m alone

Recently the keyboard of my computer hasn’t been working

Until I went to the Best Buy and they told my tormented soul that all is well

This comes after many a trip to the ER, where I go 50% of the time to see him

The weak ER med student that I idolize

He is tall, Italian with glasses, he has a timid demeanor, at least to me

I can see the awkwardness in his walk as he passes by, thinking that in some other way

I am not looking at him, like brainwash meant for good

I think of him as a soldier fighting for good because he hasn’t gotten to that point yet

Maybe last night was the tip of the iceberg

And it is all downhill from here

Or there, should I say

I like to think that he is a good guy, even though the only thing that can prove that to me is the

Future

A place where the old problems are a thing of the past

And what is left over are my thoughts on brainwashing

He is so pretty when he sits in his seat, slumped over- and it makes me wonder what he thinks of me

And now my keyboard works because of IT's energy that flows through me

I saw him and his girlfriend the other day riding in a car, and I was heartbroken

And he has a crush on my best friend Ann, I think

And I am not jealous because I trust in truth

I feel like I am not really writing what I think

I feel like it could go deeper but that can’t happen until sparks fly

Him and his turned-in shoulders are something new

But I fell in love with the thing in him that he may not love

Should I say he is the perfect man?  Maybe just in my eyes he is

But what really hurts is the burning in my eyes as I wait for the eye doctor

And when I mentally mention my sister, everything changes

Can this problem of mind block be solved?  I hope one day, not right now, I still don’t know him

His eyes shine with the idea that I am the one who doesn’t understand

As opposed to him

A Universal Relationship

Your stance could write novels.

You are stickler for attention,

a line drawn with a leg for a tangent.

You look forward as if your blue eyes blind you-

looking forward at a beautiful eclipse?

You walk in rooms with a comforting confidence,

something that guards me like a quilt on winter nights.

Your freckled face makes you seem stellar,

a universal person

who I would gaze at constellations with

on a summer equinox.

Your gaze envelops me

taking me to the heavens

and back

in the amount of time it takes to blush-

my cheeks turning the color of Mars

until cooled when you take my hand

and we walk along the streets.

The moon becomes our guardian

and the stars our angels.