The Person I Could Love

Floss of my teeth,
I pull it back and forth
In every nook and cranny
Inside of my mouth.
It isn’t something I’d do for myself.
I do it because the person I could love
Should feel safe that my kisses won’t disgust them.
I brush them and work on an image of a noble
Because I am just a lonely oaf
With loyalty to a toothbrush.

I go to bed
And it waits for me.
I love it and it offers me
Its love, warmth, and security.
Eventually I hope to share it,
With the person I could love...
Yes, I’m talking about my blanket.

Pages turning and pages stopping,
I ask them with my eyes questions
That I don’t even know of.
At times I produce the same ones,
To confirm if my mind is still my own.
I find that the bindings of these texts
Have allowed me to witness
Who it is that I could love,
And who it is that I cannot,
But can learn to with time and research.
The pages that have guided me,
Replacing the stars and the now polluted sky,
I adore so much with my thanks.
A family within the world of lovely books.

The next, is the holder of my thoughts,
A successor to what used to be trees.
Many have used it for hours on end.
Til days are late into nights,
It illuminates faces with inspiration and more.
For with energy that came from the skies
It has provided a gateway to a digital saga.
Empowered with my wavelength
On a search for the person I could love.
Simply put it is the oddest of these things,
It holds onto minds and souls, My Computer.

These things are all objects,
And they all help me search within myself
What courage, strength, wit, and fault
That I still have and that I can experience.
All of which, lead me to what I enjoy doing,
To one day be with the person I could love.
And no longer, having to rely on these worldly friends.