short stories of our time

i read about crying in the rain and tears like broken water pipes
i knew about unsent letters and pictures kept
i remembered things like I love yous and words such as kisses in the dark
they are familiar to everyone, not just to me
and it is sad to learn of endings and excuses
but more depressing to know of the truth
because no matter how many times we turn the pages
they are just going to be stories
always one to two pages short
never a novel, even of the Russian kind
In this time, in this land, in this society

unless maybe some things change
and an author is brave enough to rewrite them
maybe make a thousand page tome for all those short stories
you and I have come to love

getting lost

in life there would always be questions
and the truth is we would rarely find the answers to them
oftentimes there would be half truths and lies
and so many gray areas
so it is ok to be feel lost sometimes
it is ok to be dumbfounded
so long as we always try to find the right way back

nostalgic mornings.

friday the 13th again
i woke up to the sound of my phone ringing
and somewhere in the back of my sleep laden brain
is the question "why is my phone not on vibrate mode?"
but muscles have their own memory and
so i yawned and automatically reached for my phone
your name was flashing on the screen
blinking insistently like the Christmas lights in my mother's favorite tree
i pressed silent and stared stupidly at the screen
waiting for the end call to appear
then I promptly fall back to sleep
and when i woke up again my first thought was of you
after so many years of celebrating because i have finally forgotten you
i am back to that, to this, to you as my first thought of the day
you cannot imagine how strange that is
my brain recognizes you without me thinking consciously
my muscles remember what to do when you call
but at least my heart did not fail me this time
it knew who it beats for