“Don’t let those boys get to you”

But some I wish
He would wait for me like he used to
Or text me back
Don’t keep me on delivered for for weeks on end

I wish I wouldn’t do everything wrong
I wish he didn’t love her
I wish I was better, however she is like
Because I’m hoping I’d do it right

I wish I wasn’t stupid or dumb
I wish I understood
I wish he loved me
I wish I didn’t say sorry so much

I’m afraid of losing him
Afraid I’ll stop liking or loving him
I’m afraid I’ll lose it
It won’t work out

It never does…..it never did………!

I’ll be ok for a few days but then it hits me, I stop functioning and everything falls apart again….!

God, keep my heart attuned to laughter
when youth is done;
when all the days are gray days, coming after
The warmth, the sun.
God keep me then from bitterness, from
grieving,
When life seems cold;
God keep me always loving and believing
As I grow old.
"happy happy birthday to myself"
© marknyangacha

I know,
my love,
my muse,
I have always known

I knew that this would
be our last conversation,
but this is not my last poem

It pained me deeply,
but I knew that one day
I will slowly start to forget
your loving face,
bewitching scent,
and soothing voice

Oh, how I loved you
I knew I will still love you
even after you desert me

I knew it,
but I still held your small hand
I still worshiped you in secret
I still adored you blindly

And I still do

If you are ever unfortunate enough to witness her anger. My only advice is this: pray then to every god you know, for your own will not be enough to save you from her fury

The bright morning sun greets
through the window.

I woke up with a big smile
and greeted Happy Morning
to the Universe.

The birds responded
with a sweet melody,
and my day begins.

Death never quells
The tin ringing of its wedding bells.
Our own flesh, betrothed
To dirt, and consummated
As a glossy wooden box penetrates
Beneath the surface of the Earth.

How we tailor time to match,
A fitted formula that suits our thoughts.
Trails of missed connections,
Lead like breadcrumbs to
The fraction of a second, when you spoke too soon.
Your moment is lost. Words spoken
Forever emblazoned on the stone slab
Carried around as personality.
What you always meant to say,
Only ever reads as regret. We never count the steps
Between triumph and catastrophe.
Life is a burnt-out church house. A one-man quire
Singing sorrow, match in hand.