Do What You Want

You can do what you want and refuse what you don't,

and I'm free to argue, to ask why you won't.

This is no proposition enstringèd, no date.

It's just an excuse to relax, stay out late,

Somehow separate this from your six other days.

You'd do best to get out, since you can't get away.

You see all of the drawbacks, and none of the rewards,

Or maybe I'm just bored.

Love, Factually

Love is about a person's flaws.

Love is like having a superpower

That is actually a dangerous disadvantage.

Love is about disregarding rational thought

While making permanent plans.

Love is having a ready-made excuse to relapse into self-hatred

After doing anything interesting or impulsive.

Love is about compromise, forged by quiet desperation.

(According to the Gospel of House,)

“I love her, therefore I let her keep her socks on.

If that's what love is about, I don't want anything to do with it.”

...And Spit In The Other

I wish I remembered our how-to-be-friends.

I wish I could just randomly see you again.

I wish I remembered where I remember you from.

I wish I had more to say to you.

                                                Guess I'm done. 

When I Was

I remember when I was intense,

Rather than indifferent.

I remember when I was prolific,

Rather than pedantic.

I remember when I was prodigal,

Rather than pedestrian.

I remember when I was fun,

Rather than forgettable.

I remember when I was creative,

Rather than coasting.

I remember when I was hoping,

Rather than moping.

I remember when I was hungry,

Rather than gluttonous.

I remember when I was rounded,

Rather than rounding.

I remember when I was gallant,

Rather than galling.

I remember when I was someone

Rather than nobody.

Those days had their moments.

When You Were

I remember when you were eccentric,

Rather than ecclectic.

I remember when you were inquisitive,

Rather than an inquisitor.

I remember when you were spontaneous

Rather than sensible.

I remember when you were sarcastic,

Rather than enthusiastic.

I remember when you were interestingly unconventional,

Rather than interested in the mundane.

I remember when you were cute

As a habit, rather than an occasion.

I remember when you were fresh,

Rather than frozen.

I remember when you were mine,

Rather than his.

Those days had their moments.

Liar, Liar

Lies are not the sovereign territory of words,

Nor are pants the only habitat of fire.

Indeed, I can feel my whole face burning

As I exert all of my strength

Endeavoring to smile like I mean it

In an attempt to laugh like I used to,

Testing the depths of my depression

and failing.

Awkward Situation IV: Recipes for Mixing Metaphors

My pen bleeds, and in lieu of pain

Cries that all the world's a page.

So, most unplagued by inspiration,

Instead, I'm sickened with frustration,

Which, having youth dilute with age,

Grasps at substitutes for rage.

To be paralyzed by punctuation

Makes an awkward situation.