The Lost Notebook (poem)

Lately I've been thinking of you,

reflecting on what was,

and what was lost,

all those months ago.

There's a dishonestly in it though,

thoughts laced with lies,

a pursuit of the melancholy

and reflections of the lost.

The notebook that held our story is gone,

lost in a theatre,

left behind when the show ended,

forgotten and abandoned.

Thinking of you is my attempt

to grow crops in barren soil

while I live on fertile land,

simply out of habit.

But it's time to cast it away,

to look ahead again,

eyes full of fire and light,

to create a proper present.

-Zero

Things change overnight (poem)

That night

I thought would end it all.

Months of love ruined overnight

with one conversation.

No one had stayed before.

They said they would,

that things don't change so fast,

and then they leave.

I trusted so many times

the nicest people left scars

that incite panic when perfect ends,

inspire dread and hopelessness.

That night

had me fearing the worst

as you lay asleep next to me,

my panic against your peace.

But when the morning came,

you showed me what it's like

when somebody stays,

when things don't change overnight.

Now I believe you

when you say you're here to stay,

and I'm glad it's you

and not them.

-Zero

Full of Excuses (poem)

I feel like work has made me lazy,

made me good at making excuses:

“oh I've had a long day,

I'll write tomorrow,”

but I won't.

I almost went a month without poetry,

only a few ink stains on the page

because “I had no inspiration”

but inspiration is made through thought,

and my mind was full of excuses.

I once filled three notebooks over 3 months,

just writing constantly,

noticing the way she brushed her hair aside,

thinking of the sorrow of a ring abandoned,

reflecting on my heart's tendencies.

Now I feel it'll take two years to fill one,

with the final entry bidding goodbye to writing

to pursue some corporate job,

too busy to stop and think,

too good at making excuses.

-Zero

To crave darkness (poem)

I crave darkness,

the serenity it offers.

Too much time spent working

under bright white lights.

All I want is a dark apartment

lit only by a weak desk-lamp

and candles scattered about.

Some time alone with my thoughts

and the demons they summon,

to not feel numb

like life is nothing but air

and I don't notice it pass by,

to become more than I am.

My future rests elsewhere,

a path unlit by the light of day,

known only by the burning embers,

not by soft office carpet.

I crave this darkness

so I can find a way home.

-Zero

The Yearly Garden (poem)

When I look back on this past year,

I don't see sunflowers or daisies,

just an abandoned garden revisited,

pain, but seeds planted.

I've learned to say farewell,

so consider this goodbye

to the pain of last year

and the ghosts of years past.

I'll always remember you

in the stories I tell myself and others,

the truth written in a black notebook

long lost.

And when the spring flowers bloom,

their petals covering the sunlit forest floor,

I'll think of you,

just as the flowers bloom in remembrance of winter.

I hope next year I'll look back

and see a flourishing garden,

instead of dry cracked ground

with only sprouts breaking through.

-Zero