It’s almost
a year
or so
to
the
day
when you told me
You
fell out
of our love
for no other
reason than
It just happened.
You
told me
you no longer cared,
you
told me
you didn’t want to know
another thing about me,
and what was left of us
was a shipwreck
of
a
bittersweet
memory.

It’s been almost
a year
or so
too,
from when I
told myself
that I am still
meant
for
you
for no other reason than
I just do.
I thought
I no longer cared,
I thought
I didn’t want you
and everything about you.
What was left of me
walked away
with
You.

But
We
lost
contact,
and I think you
met someone else.
I have no idea
who he is or
where he takes you or
how much
he cares about you.
I just hope what he has
is more;
more than what
I could have given you,
more than what
I could have sacrificed for you,
More than…
Just more than I do.

But I Lied,
‘cause everything
still reminds me
of you.
You are gone with the wind
but the wind
still pushes me
towards you.
And
I hope
That
He
doesn’t
exist
like the space
between
me and you.

I
met someone else, too.
She isn’t
anything like you,
but the way she cares
is
also
true.
I hope you’re happy,
‘Cause right now,
that’s also what
i’m
trying
to be.

Even if it isn’t you,
even if it isn’t me,
even if it isn’t you with me.

And if
One day
You wake up
and realize that
it is still I
that you wish for;
who holds you at night,
and gives life to the waking dream
Tell me
because
feelings
like this can ****
you.
Like what you did
to me
when you asked me
Who are you?

And I swear,
my love broke
into fragments
when I asked you,
Who are you?

But what was I to do?

But what was I to do?

”

Some parts fire,
some parts rain,
you are both
shelter
and
the oncoming hurricane.

Cry not for me,
my loving ones.
I have spent
my time
on this Earth
chasing dreams
as best I could;
working,
struggling,
loving.
I have been through much,
as some may know,
that others will discover
only in retelling.
If there is a heaven,
perhaps it knows;
these old bones
are weary
and yearn for their rest.
So cry not for me,
my loving ones,
for I am surrounded
by the ones I love,
who I too will sorely miss.
Not farewell,
I hope,
but rather, till we meet again.”

I remember
you
as the leaves were
on that fine Autumn;
stunning,
and
fleetingly
beautiful.

I'll remember your hair,
and your warmth,
and your fingertips
as a constant reminder
of Summer,
for You are
my first breath
of Summer;
my Summersdawn.

And though
we are no longer
what we used to be,
I do still love you.

Do you know the saying?

"When you love someone,
they stay in your heart
Forever."

Well,
perhaps
it's in the way
you hold my hand
or say "I love you"
at night,
or maybe
it's in the way
your loving eyes
bring me daylight.

Because
You
will
always
be here with me.

Let me be the minor setback,
the late appointment,
the sudden no crossing sign.
Let me be August rain,
October nights,
and April days.
Let me be the seashore,
the comfy chair,
the grass under your feet.
Let me be a room full of books,
let me be the roof over your head,
let me be the first time you see snow
let me be that feeling once you go
to
wherever
you
want
to
be.

I keep myself busy
so I won’t have the slightest chance
to let you
occupy my mind.
It was a cold night
when I left you.
And it was on a colder night still
that I decided to let you go.
The cigarette in my fingers
is a metaphor
of a memory I’d soon forget.
It is precisely
because we reminisce
that we seek
ephemeral company.
We let the past back in,
we allow ourselves to feel,
and we let it end.
It costs a piece of our lives
to be able to feel
as we used to
in a distant memory.
And we would gladly comply
just to take it all back
before the light fades,
and all that’s left
are the ashes.”

-*D.C.

I’ll admit,
the reckless abandon by which I write
is my very own guilty pleasure.
Perhaps someday you’ll take the time
to pass by this haven that I’ve made,
away from prying eyes.
The fickle words that reach me
often leave this boy wanting for not
but to embrace the darkness with anticipation.
Maybe you’re reading this right now.
Or it’s just me again hoping that these words
will come across and miraculously set things right.
To find that a soul so fragile
still ventures out into the world in search for the light
while emitting its own soft glow.
There’s no one quite like you.

You’re a masterpiece in the making.

Do you know
what helps
a writer
write?
Is it the way
that he feels
for you?
That wistful
yearning,
ever
prevalent,
consuming
the entirety
of his days.
Is it in
the distance?
Miles apart
and yet so
undeniably
close.
Is it in
the moments
spent with you?
Infinity
times
Infinity.
Or is it
your
love
that he has,
every waking
moment,
that helps
a writer
write?

Meeting you
is a sudden
alteration
of this
familiar,
overused
palette;
a complete shift,
a dreamer's flight
from
all
that
is
home…
Into the welcome
unknown.
Forgive this
night-thinker
for incompetence.
All that you are,
is all that
is new
to me.
The promise
of
the morrow;
daybreak upon
the horizon.
Your gaze is
sunlight,
your presence is
warmth,
but from which
I need not
shy away.
This time,
I ask,
will you stay
with me?

Cursed,
he was;
forced to roam
these lands
until the
last of days.
A divine sigil
rests upon
his brow;
an invitation
to imminent
destruction.
T'was he
who slew
his brother,
and by doing so,
had dug
two graves.
But
his brother
was not lost,
no.
For eons
he slumbered
in the pit;
his revenge
fueling the
raging infernos
that surround him.
Until one day,
he stirred.
And upon his
unholy
resurrection
he recalled
a name,
and his fury
grew all the more.

~*D.C.

When your gaze found me,
remember that you
-for that short infinity-
held the entirety of my being
and
let
it
go
in a heartbeat.

~*D.C.

His consciousness moved,
his body did not.
He was bound
to the ground.
A fallen angel
stood amidst
the tempestuous
flames,
yet he did not burn.
The younger brother
was unstable,
malleable;
he must be put
to the test.
Thus,
the angel
fashioned
a blade
of immense strength
that wielded
the powers
of his hell,
upon its hilt
inscribed
-in seraphic
tongue-
Convicta.
Use it
he said.
Use it as
a vessel
of your
hate.
At once,
His soul
clung to
the demonic
weapon,
his body
was left behind.
You cannot leave,
the angel said,
unless he is
brought
to this side.
And Abel knew
what must be done,
and began the
journey out
of the inferno.

~*D.C.

Through blurry dreams of vivid ebony.
Of crimson red that escape my mem’ry.
The old hand of time has taken its toll,
In a world of dreams that wish to console.

With the passing of a clandestine star,
Whose dazzling silver lights just seem too far.
The transcendence of a thousand comets,
Are as beautiful as a sun that sets.

Overhead, a deep and calming sky blue,
A sign of life that shall now breathe anew.
Outcast and in exile, the vagrant weeps,
A soft silent whisper as Zephyr sleeps.

For stars that age, that once shone so brightly,
Dimming grandeur though ever so slightly.
Woe to he, lost in this sad serenade,
Her beautiful face, her pitiful shade.

A love of words,
of reading and writing,
our souls brimming
constantly
with poetry.
A blanket of stars
over both our heads,
bringing you closer
and closer
to me.
A Hologram for the King,
Anime, movies, fun facts,
and Navy-blue galaxy pillow sheets.
Darkest green,
and lullabies.
Forever,
Kindred,
in
your
eyes.

She is wonderfully unique,
an ensemble
of rhythms;
a hint of jazz
mixed with alternative music,
with just the right amount
of punk rock
and metal.”

Your*  *Love
has brought about
Ice and Fire,
and has molded this material
into a different form,
like the gifted artisan
that I believe You will grow to become.
Someday,
You will gaze into these eyes
and realize,
without a single word,
that I am Your art piece too.
and that
Your Love
Your Warmth
Your Gentleness
has transformed Iron
into Steel.

*D.C.