Why Does It Matter? Romantic Improv Blogging Haiku

Sure. Why not. Why does/
it matter? Why should I care?/
No one else seems to.

Getting Ready: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

It will be a strange/
day when I am ready at/
last and she is not.
Or
Will she feel strange and/
odd when I’m at last ready,/
but she is not close?

It’s not that we’re not/
speaking the same language, but/
that we’re not talking.

You were the mother
of my escape,
of the start
of the birth
of my
(as yet unfinished)
self-discovery journey.

It was you
who set my feet on the path
that opened up my soul
and my heart
and my mind
to what could be
and should be
and now,
increasingly,
is.

Sometimes you just need/
to get out to discover/
you need to get out.

I can’t call you,/
text you,/
or write you,/
so I compose/
dozens/
of poems/
about you./

That has to/
suffice/
when I don’t hear/
from you.

My brain’s gone into /
hyperdrive mode. I can’t stop/
thinking about *you.

*her.

I once stood at a/
fork in the road and You asked:/
“Y?”. Now it’s my turn.

She won’t call, so I/
can’t invite her to the ball/
I was going to.

Don’t think me silly/
or not caring. Sometimes I/
must laugh through the pain.