It’s true that I find/
poetry in everything./
That’s why i like you.

She stiletto heels
how I feel
about her.

The words
I send and call,
she doesn’t respond to at all.

Her excuse
is that she’s a loose
emotional roller coaster.
That’s the most her
mind and heart
can come up with?
Well, it’s a start,
if not exactly a gift.

Still, she shouldn’t be confused
and try to assign me a new muse,
or two or three,
especially
when my main muse is primarily
she.

Update after her 2nd response
Of course,
if she neglects
to tell me she’s in a wreck,
or even very sick,
I have no way of knowing.
Although my concern for her is growing,
her silence
makes me wince,
frown,
and shut down.

Now, I don’t know what to say
or how to even ask if she’s okay.

We gazed at the moon/
together. I’ll miss that when
the super moon shows.

Experiencing/
aviarys doesn’t let/
one write chicken sh*t.

What does it feel like/
to think this could be your last/
sleepy friday night?

I send randomness?/
Ja, I guess./
Is it bad/
2 try 2 relieve your stress?/
2 try and show I care/
when I’m here/
and Ur there./
I’m just a guy/
texting a girl/
2 say hi.

Texts may be random/
but they’re not dumb./
Maybe you’d be here,/
and I’d buy you a beer/
and show I care at least some.

It’s been a tough day./
Do you ever want to stay /
with somebody/
when you feel shoddy/
and in their arms lay?

Let not my extreme /
intensity hide my joy/
and serenity.

She taught cowboys how/
to think. What does she think she/
will teach me to do?