i know you have to go
and I know I can’t come with you
this feels like the hundredth goodbye
but I guess we just couldn’t get it right
the first 99
this ache is all too familiar, yet all together, something brand new
this time, my heart is ripping itself out
and throwing itself at you,
like a reverse defense mechanism
this time, I know you won’t come back to
soothe the pain that haunts me
this time you’re leaving my heart on
the floor as it beats its final song
do hear it crying for you?
begging, to let us fall in love one last time
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
i want you if
even for the
shortest moment
of time
even if knowing
our hellos
will also be
goodbye.
i want
you
to hold me.
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 11:59 PM UTC
As it turns out,
I’m not very good
at writing broken poetry.
Whatever this pain inside
Of me is, it isn’t
ready to come out.
I have writers block
Like the block on my heart.
I swear it hasn’t beat sense you left.
The words won’t flow,
And neither will the blood
My hands are numb as I write
This **** poetry and
The only thing that will fix
It is the warmth of your love.
Come back
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
In the wondrous story book of night
I eagerly absorb and fall in to contemplation,
You were the one omnipresent,
across light years and flickering flames near.
As orbs of light in many intensities and hues,
the rays of infinite grace that envelop me,
what feel like the caresses of lotus petals
was your love,my eternal beloved.
Soft,frothing moon beams has been
my true consolation at times of deep pain,
the swishing comet, my constant wonder
takes me to you in my imagination.
I was an enquirer,eagerly searching
for the meaning of my existence.
transforming from one to another
formed by dust gifted by unknown stars.
Enshrined you are in the diamond
temple of my still mind,
making you my lover eternal,
I honored my yen for the sublime.
The story book of night tells,
about spirited mornings,noon and dusk
your benign presence was in each step,
of the motions of galaxies.
I see your quick moving eye brows
in the tumult of the black rain clouds.
your intense eyes flash love in lightening
when I feel starved of your love
In waves one after the other, your hands
embrace me,I am reassured once more,
mountain wind from afar bring
your songs, a lonely nightingale sing.
I am a living monument, that breathes
your love from elements to live on,
like millionaire,that's ready to sacrifice
everything for the ecstasy of your presence.
There isn't any other lover who cares,
like you who brings such grace to a beloved.
you've the very same eyes of my mother
that wouldn't miss me wherever I am.
like her whenever I fall your hands
seek me pulling up my mind
you are a presence constant
I haven't missed you ever anywhere.
In days I move within a dream
having created it,you know where I am,
as I turn the pages of the story book of night,
whenever I want to feel closer, you are there.
You've been the mirror reflecting my candor,
you are more than anything I've ever yearned,
the river that carries me, that I am one with,
a flow we are to the ocean of consciousness.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC
pool swirling deep
surface still
beguiling
glimpsed from afar
caution warned
but you came
aeons spoke true
our hands shook
you held on
time stood still
even breath
paused
seconds stretched
vibrating
eternity
stunned we stood
uncaring for talk
riveted
others filled space
with putty chatter
while we stayed locked
silent cerebral synergy
magnetic dance
exceeding
all thought
numbed in
mindless joy
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
I'm looking for a way
To describe the
depth of the the oceans
In your eyes,
The taste of roses
On your lips,
The light of the sun
Beaming along your spine
And out of your heart
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
When we were young,
we played in the rain.
We stomped around
like giants,
smashing oceans with our
rubber boat shoes.
Splashes fly...
On to my cheeks.
As they mix with the salty raindrops
that came from the clouds in my eye sockets,
the frozen puddles fill my heart.
Age has taken our joy and
replaced it with longing.
Oh, how I long for those simplistic,
redundant, **** yellow rain boots.
Mostly, I long for the ease of existing,
where we looked forward to the rain
and trusted it not to drown us.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC