Holographic Charizard

Handsome man
you stepped out of a dream filled with heavy basslines
and into my arms
a year and a half ago

I swear, your eyes hold the feeling of ectasy
that the ocean gets every time it pauses on the sand
before it slips away back into itself

you are the world at its most extended

and yet

as a muse
you
are terrible.

my words, once fluid like sand ever shifting down mountainsides
have solidified
into attempted sculptures to glorify your bright being

but I
am not a sculptor
I am a writer
and if I cannot write you love poetry
what good am I?

I told you the other day
that there is a moment
when getting to know someone new
when you finally get to see their soul
and i compared it to opening a new pack of pokemon cards.
because when I got to know you
when I opened that thin foil over the deepest point of you
i found that you were a holographic charizard.

because that was the best way for me to explain to everyone else
how rare and valuable you are to me (not to scale)

none of the metaphors I make are properly to scale
to explain just how much you mean to me

stupidity

I guess this is what graduate school is about.
realizing how little you know
and being surrounded by the best and the brightest

but all it feels like
is that i'm not living up to standards
that i'm actually not understanding what I should be
that i'm lacking in experience and learning
and that i'll fail.

I'm afraid that someone is going to look at me
with a dawning realization crossing their face
"you're not as smart as you should be, are you?"

not like anyone would be that cruel
except me. to myself.

I guess I should cut myself some slack...

but I want to do well
I want to succeed and discover new things

but right now all i feel capable of
is sleeping.
just letting time pass me by in an unconscious state
of unknowing
no one can call me stupid when i'm sleeping
well, at least I won't hear it.