Old Poem #13, Age 17 (Edited)

I asked girl A if she knew girl B. 
Girl A said, "Never liked her. 
For she is one of the popular girls, 
And I know what that crowd is all about." 

This would have been news to my friend, girl B, 
Who said boys never called her 
Thinking she must have been busy, I guess, 
Or something. She had no idea. 

So A hated B for something she wasn't; 
And B hated life, for something IT wasn't, 
And I saw the girls were just like us boys: 
But that didn't help anybody, at all.

Old Poem, Age 21

 When love first breaks
 Like dawn across the sky,
 Your heart fills up
 And all the old fears die

 And every cold
 And lonely day recedes,
 Within the ground
 Are planted golden seeds --

 When love first breaks
 Like shattered porcelain,
 The heart lies broken,
 Filled with fears again

 The cold returns
 To fill us from inside:
 As 'neath the snow
 Lie nascent trees that died

Old Poem, Age the Day I Proposed

If you need magic, all the time,
I may not be the one —

But if working hard at it – every day – means anything,
I’d like to be considered for
The position of us

(Besides, you are magical enough for two people)

I know many love you,
But somehow I doubt
Anyone could love your craziness
Your passion
Your curiosity and intelligence
Your strength
Or your hair
Quite like I do

You are the best song I’ve ever heard,
The best story I’ve ever walked in on in the middle,
The best friend I could ever want,
And the best person I’ve known, period

(Even when you are smiling at me upside down)

Take this journey with me and we
Will see the world
Be the world
And free the world

Or maybe we’ll just
Grow old,
Make pizza,
Watch movies,
Throw popcorn at each other,

And watch the sun set and rise
Over 30,000 days and nights
And the 30,000 different ways
I will find

To love you

Old Poem, Age 24 (Edited)

[I had completely forgotten this poem and the event it refers to. At the time, I would not have thought that possible, so hard did it hit me. – Owen]

One night, you gave yourself to me
  the next night you had gone away
I do not understand
I do not understand at all

I still remember how it felt
  to be right next inside of you
I do not understand
I do not understand at all

The wine the bath the touch the kiss
  the hours spent in all of this –
The feel of you the sound of you
  the taste of your intention

One night I do not understand
I still I do not understand
The wine I do not understand
I do not understand

Another Old Poem, Written Age 16

I know that in relationships
I am no sort of whiz:
But please don’t tell me it’s not me
Because I know it is

It’s me that you don’t want to see
Or talk to anymore:
It’s me that makes you cringe
When I come walking through the door

Listen, I will not make scenes
I will just go away:
Although I’m me, I still have pride –
Just much less