I lie in bed thinking of your face.
Or a face I imagine of someone beautiful.
Someone with the minimal qualities I’ve narrowed down.
I train myself to stay open minded
In case I see you walk by.
I write my poems about you,
Because it’s all I ever think about.
There’s only so long I can go alone;
Only so long I can tell myself I’m okay,
Until nighttime falls
And I find myself hugging a pillow
On the other side of the bed.
Loneliness is something we all have struggled with before.
Some plunge into their work to override any emotions.
Others find other vices, both healthful and harmful.
I choose to write about you,
Hoping that one day these poems and literature
Will transform into a breathing person I imagine.
The guy I write these poems to.
Your face and body is all I can think about
While I write at one A.M.