I wish I had the  power to stop the clock when you were in my arms
I wish I had the strength to confess my love for you..
I wish I had the courage to hold your slipping hand when you were saying your final goodbyes

Your words were dripping with affection
As if honey was falling from the sky

It's the time to listen to our own heartbeat
To talk to our inner self.
It's the introspective moment that we need,
To survive in this modern over-noisy World.

Silence has a sound which can't be heard from the ears,
But only by the heart

We will not stand here
And allow an angel
Who became a devil
To enter this sacred gate.

With a trembling  voice
I did inquire
Of what am I accuse
Of being human, of being human
Came back the reply.

The hurt may go away
but your memory will
forever rest in my soul.

One of all Is here
The unwashed blanket
And cups.  
My black cat comes back

INFJ - T

I grow exhausted at the exuberance of crowds.
Not able to ignore that nagging voice that whispers the evils of them
Feelings of fear overpower the simple formula of conversation
Jutting into remind me of my appearance compared to theirs -
Too weak to fight against it.

It’s not easy to speak my mind.
Never daring to even introduce myself
Following a very strict line
Just taking each day step by step -
Thinking someday I’ll be able to explain.

Inside, I judge everything.
New situations make the feelings shake
Fear and turbulence expand within
Jaw clenched and sweaty palms -
Thin skin begins to bruise.

Introverted and intuitive
Nervous, yet calm
From day to day
Just a puppet -
To a never-ending nightmare

Sunday goodbyes are hardest to say
but Love, we'll speak another day
week spent missing you
I promise we'll make it through
so, lets dry our eyes
and say our Sunday goodbyes

the amount of stars compare to
my questions about the reality
I'm set in

the gleam and glisten seems to
beat solely for me as I descend
into the glass pool-
                                    I'm on my back
and one with the sky and I listen to the lights' secret.

Last I checked the sink
Hadn't been full of water, overflowing
but now I see
the faucet is running because he left it on.

I won't say much, but what I know,
is that beauty always is.

Simply this. Near only this.

I don't know much but what I want,
the blind man can also see.

It's not the looks, it's not the touch, It's to be free.

I do wish to have it all, but what I get,
still is a bliss.

Beauty is. Beauty is.

I forget what it feels like to be happy.
I forget what it feels like to be loved.
I forget what it feels like to love.
I forget what it feels like to love myself.
I forget what it feels like to be able to make someone happy.
I forget what life was like with you.
I forget what life was without you.
I forget what it feels like to trust.
I forget what it feels like to be open.
I forget what it feels like to be pain free.
I forget a lot,
But I cant forget you.

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

My temporary love...
Here now, gone forever
We are temporary and the love you feel temporarily will fade
Like mist on a Sunday morning
Dreaming of an everlasting peace will leave you forever in a cacoon.
Let your temporary love bloom until it's to ripe to right your life.

Her World a storm..
yet her smile/laughter fixed...
holding back from All...
Letting it Go
Just a bit...
only when alone...
doesn't she know...
it's only the under toe...
soon she will see...
The beautiful, special, confident spirit we all see...
... Kelcee All

You are your own gift
to your own astounding self
must you forget it?

My little friend is now gone
My tragic life must go on; despite that
His evil eyes and his cheeky smile still burn in my mind
He no longer exists but
For my memory of him
And I rejoiced
When I heard the news
Still I can recall how I sobbed
When he gave me his evil eye me for the first time
When he hurled glass and other projectiles at me when he was hungry
When he spent hours upon hours pondering the fabric of society
I hated him
I wished
For his death
I was depressed
It was like paint peeling off a wall
It was like finding a dead leprechaun at the end of a rainbow
I was expecting some sort of remorse when he left
Funny how heartbreak works

Now read this in reverse
Because sometimes all you need
Is a little change of perspective
To truly understand someone

I yam not only orangey
I’m awesomely tighltey whitley
And mostly so correctly

There’s no dirt in my smirk
I believe I’m totally rightly
And you? Are you native bornly?

I was bussed here
And you are from where?
What? Wall? We’re here wrongly?

Some neighbors bought me a wine
for Christmas, cause they have seen
the army of bottles building on the garden table.

It was Spanish and dry
and he asked me which wines I prefer
I responded "sweet and fruity."
He told me he'd put them in the drain,
when he gets them as a gift.

I asked myself if I am the drain
and sweet and fruity is a lie -
is that the reason why
he told me that?

while I may no longer show signs of exhaustion
it is good to note that I am filled with desperation
to sleep, or even better, leave for hibernation

Sometimes if we’re lucky
We are given a dream
A special wish or desire
It becomes part of us
It seems impossible

Dream

It’s a beautiful dream
We want it more than ever
It’s always on our mind
If we believe with all our might
It then becomes reality

Dream

I find it strange that when I look into your eyes I'm not met with an endless starry sky
The world around me doesn't freeze or turn monochrome around everyone but you
I don't see an endless sea or visions of a setting sun, no matter my determination
So how do I know it is love if it isn't as the words I've heard all my life describe?

Yet my heart still drops when you walk into the room, even when your focus is a place far off
People say it's like a flutter but this is far too heavy to use such a light word to describe such a feeling
It's painful, but I know it isn't something ominous or bad because it feels right
How do I know it is love if none if my words describe it right as they should?

I get it every time our eyes meet or you tilt your head and smile with your head in the clouds
I get it when you laugh to yourself or say something hardly above a whisper
When you focus so hard you ***** up and let out that silly sigh of aggravation and I feel such deep affection
Yet is it alright for me to say what I feel is love when I can't even tell myself what love is?

I don't think your eyes need starry skies or my stomach needs a million butterflies
Your smile doesn't need to illuminate the room and my thoughts for you don't need an anchor
Your love shouldn't have an expectation and my words don't need to have a proper diction

Perhaps I'll see it in your heart or feel it in your touch one day if you feel the same
Regardless what the world has sold me with their modern day poetry
I promise you that no matter how hopeless I become I will find out for myself
What it means to love you wholly even if I have to find out from loving at a distance

There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk

Your smile,
your lips,
whispered this,
time is a gift,
it gives us
presence,
in a moment

recently
I got a little older,
learned a lesson or two,
like how loving someone
could never be as poetic
as I wanted it to.
like how nothing
could ever be as poetic
as I want it to.
how can I accept
that the miracle of love
isn’t really a miracle at all?
how can I wrap myself
in someone’s arms
when I know
that there isn’t any sort
of poetic loving involved.
how do I unlearn
the romantic thoughts
that taught me
about the fireworks,
the butterflies,
and the fluttering fingers
in the dark.
and accept that
maybe kissing
won’t be as spiritual as I thought.
maybe it’s really just a mouth on mine.
how do I unlearn my innocent heart
who lulled me into a false sense of hope
for a lover who would call
the way my body moves
art.
a lover who would feel
the poetry
in every word
I spoke in the dark.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

You miss a meal,
Then it turns to two,
A day passes,
And no one notices you.

Craving nutrition,
There goes a week,
Those many hours,
Longing for something to eat.

Using the same excuse,
"I'm not hungry, I just ate,"
The numbers keep dropping,
Was sixty-three, now fifty-eight.

You can't go back,
People are noticing you,
They say you should eat, and you say,
"You have something better to do."

It's harder than you think,
Just leave me alone!
Stop telling me to eat and drink!
If I need you, I can find my phone.

no heroics, quite a bit of boredom
            fair share of rejection
          more often ignored and

if I’m a character in my life story
my role is listener, quiet glory

I watch, I learn, I love the songs
I add my verse and wander along

reader, thinker, troubled soul, dad
traveler, obsessive, probably a bit mad.