I can think of nought with more power
Than that which can convey so much.
There's beauty and simplicity to a flower,
So too in horizons, and seas, and such.
Yet it's language that hits me here,
And brings endless tears to my eyes;
They can convey such joy, rage, fear,
Emotions that I used to despise.
Yet I've learned to appreciate what's afore me.
Love has a power I can't begin to see.

Yet I can't feel a solitary **** thing

I can still recall how my heart sped up so,
Yet the image of such surprises me.
Am I still capable of love? I don't know.
My eyes have been open so long, they can't see.

I've gone back and reread them,
Those words I wrote for you.
It was from this heart they did stem,
Yet to me now, it all seems untrue.

I remember that I remember loving you,
But in the years gone by my love has dried.
What would that I could choose to imbue
Another soul with what has since died.

But I can't remember how to love.
I can't be certain I can still love.

Yet the yearning in my heart desires more

A single dream
Was all it took to break me

A life far more complex than mine,
I'll grant that it was not ideal.
A life filled with choices too asinine
to consider how it would make me feel
But doing anything, to look as right in that dress,
An honest truth, admittance, I'll acquiesce.

All it took to break me
Was to wake up from that dream