***
I’d love to rediscover *** with you
Recreate it
Give it a new meaning
I want to learn how to have *** all over again - with you

Ma’am
My attention is on you
This class involves an interactive conversation of more than words


My lips
They will cease to speak but my hands won’t
Your skin and mine need to have a very important conversation


If you turn the page, you will see that I am in love with you. From the start of this sexbook to the last page, you’ll notice that each page is laced with the lace you wear when class is about to start

Class is in session
My attention is my affection so forgive me if I’m practical about my understanding
Theoretically, two are meant to become one without subtraction - it could be a fraction - not mathematically, just according to you and me

Class is in session
Mouth to mouth
You’d think I’m saving your life but you’re the one taking my breath away
Chest compressions turn thrusts
Chest to hips
Mouth to mouth turns to mouth to lips
You’d swear that one was drowning

Class is in session
I struggle to pay attention
It gets different when I have to articulate my understanding to your pleasure
It gets different when my grades are judged on your response

Class is in session
Physical Ed has never been this physical
I’m trying make sense of your moist skin
It went from sweats to streams of your satisfaction dripping down my lips like I just had a meal that left my mouth watering

Class is in session
I’m open to correction
Wherever you hands lead me, I’ll follow
I don’t usually ask, but do you swallow?
It’s not a prerequisite
As long as it fits

Class is in session
My attention is my affection so forgive me if I’m practical about my understanding
Your body is a runway
I plan to land
Your smile lighting up the way
Your eyes - my destination

Class is in session
I love you
I love everything about you
Recreating moments of intimacy will be one class I don’t mind repeating
This is the one class where being bad, is good
Your body
The memo to this test
Straight A’s

Class is in session
I’ve studied you
From head to toe
Physically
I’ve memorized what you look like even on days when your skin seeks refuge in your wardrobe
I’ve watched you grow
I’ve learned to love you seasonally
I’ve learned to love you with the warmth of summer on cold winter days
I’ve learned to Spring to your rescue when your leaves fall
I’ve been dying to make love to you
Spiritually
Emotionally
Psychologically
Ultimately, physically

Class is in session
If I promise to love you and make love to you like I’m falling in love with you daily, would promise to love me while making love to you daily?

Class is in session
Life’s toughest lesson was living without you
That’s a class I hope to never take again

High school
I was new to this love thing
Crushes were a usual thing
I never really acted on it
I was never one for relationships

Things change though
I remember when our conversations started
Not too long after, it felt like something was missing when I hadn’t heard from you


You were one to stay after school
I was one to go home
I never believed in extra mural activities but then I fell in love with someone who did

For some reason, her cellphone battery span was only enough for the school day but nothing after that

I got used to it
It became routine to get home from school knowing it would still be a few hours till I heard from you

Oh man
When you finally got home, you’d have to juggle between giving me attention, taking a shower and doing schoolwork

Our phone calls would be brief
My broke *** never had airtime like that


Those short calls were almost predicting the future of our relationship. Short but somehow, meaningful.

You were the first person to introduce me to red flags

You were my first real relationship
I’d like to believe I loved you
I guess I dived in a little too quickly, too soon
You did everything right
I had no standards
No expectations
I was along for the ride - no matter how short it turned out to be
I didn’t even know myself back then
Almost 10 years later and I still have memories of how dishonesty was a comfortable place for you

I made excuses for you
The worst part was that I made excuses to myself, for you
I betrayed myself
On multiple occasions
I vouched for you
To myself
I held you at a higher esteem than I held myself

I remember this all too well
We were in different schools
You were one of the popular girls
I was the one with the jokes
We were never meant to be


Somehow, you caught my attention
You spoke words that eased my uncertainty
I believe you loved me at some point
I just wasn’t what you were looking for
I was in the slow lane and you were in the fast lane
No matter how many gears I switched, you were always way ahead of me

You broke my heart when dishonesty became normal
You broke my heart when lies were just a part of your conversations
You broke my heart when I had no business giving it to you
It’s ironic
I had no business loving you but I never made that any of your business
Instead, I gave you the best of me and you gave me enough to keep me at bay

Moments later, you flipped your switch to a red light and I stopped. Time taught you that you had lost a gem while getting rocked to sleep at night.

When your light turned to green i was already in a different lane
It doesn’t take me long to get over you
It takes me a while to get over what you did to me
I wish we did better
I wish we never met in the capacity of a relationship

Sincerely, a now broken church kid.

I’d imagine that our schedules are a Big Bang because they always collide
We try make time but somehow time never agrees with the decisions that we make so I guess we tend to miss each other more than we should
Under the same roof but only for the moments where we’re under the same sheets
The in betweens are vetted by ‘to-do’ lists and responsibilities
We have time
Just not enough time for each other

It’s funny how this pandemic comes and saves our relationship like a life saved by a paramedic
We’re meant to live out our lives at home, now we have to work from home so we work on our house to make it a home
Forced to rekindle the spark to this fire
Under instruction, for us to spend to time together with no disruption
Learning love all over again, building and repairing our union, constantly under construction

Quarantined with the love of my life
We’re probably sick of each other because we’re growing on each other
I guess we’re contagious and this home is our con-tangent
If my affection was identified as a cough, and my sneeze as time - I’d become your common cold
If my love was identified as a fever then girl you know I have the hots for you

I can’t go outside
Physically
Emotionally
Psychologically
Spiritually
I wouldn’t want to be outside of this love
I want to be Quarantined in the lines of your heart
Indefinitely
I’d chill on the couches of your heart
Cuddled up in blankets of your love
Watching a Kanye concert cause our love’s locked down

There’s supposedly 5 love languages recognized world wide by different relationships.

Some melt with a touch, while some are appreciated by gifts, others enjoy splurging time, some are sprinkled with affirmations, and some are indulged by acts of service.

All these love languages play the role in making sure that love is properly articulated to the understanding of the recipient.

Many are paired with someone who expresses love differently yet they still make it work.

Could it be that opposites don’t attract but similarities do?

I’m yet to see a person stand for a love they do not understand. Better yet, I’m yet to see someone receive a love they can’t reciprocate.

A language is only understood by those who speak it. Often, communication is compromised when love is not the language you have in common.

Repetition
Repetition doesn’t always provoke understanding. When I constantly tell you that I love you and you don’t get it or when I show you love through the denomination of a physical touch to translate my feelings and you don’t get it - it makes me feel that we’re of two different people, not meant to be more than strangers.

I translate love to touch
A touch isn’t always automatic
A touch requires cognizance
A touch is intentional
Physical touch is where I thrive because it’s intentional
Intentionalism is the tip of an iceberg

The process to intentionalism is built up with a train of thoughts and a ocean of feelings
It’s hard to intentionally touch someone who you don’t love

It’s hard to feel comfortable with extending a motion of physicality in a direction of another human being who you expect to respond warmly to your touch
Or to respond with understanding
Understanding and tracing the purpose of the touch
A touch that is translated to a love
Your love
Our love


I guess my love language could be sign language because it’s literal
My hands have signed your skin almost like you’re a canvas of graffiti
You look like love
You are love
My Love

It started with me getting lost in her presence while soaking up her essence
That later turned to sessions of unplanned lessons about how many of them she makes me count, including herself - blessings
This is a truth I’ll keep confessing because she graced her way into my life  making matters of my heart pressing - making falling in love with my best friend so refreshing

It’s been a long time coming
We’ve been oblivious to it but somehow we saw this would turn into something
Time has a funny way of turning nothing into  the one thing you never knew you needed


Wholeheartedly I had been searching for a love - a love as pure as hers. Subconsciously, our interactions became interviews - those turned to shared views and the love we yearned to experience from past relationships made us more deserving of a love that’s true

Our chemistry
Unmatched
She became the back of my hand
A constant presence
Her and I apart looked unfamiliar
By my side is where you’d find her most
And Of all the pet names, Fam was the one I occupied the longest
Babe is the one I hope to carry forever

She’s not big on last name changes
I’d settle for hyphenating
She’s teaching me that love has no prerequisite
Love isn’t a piece of paper, neither is it a wedding band
Love is a decision
Made with precision and of all the spaces she occupied, I can’t wait for her to occupy the forever position

This is a fairytale
One that had us overlooking each other
It later had us lost in each other’s eyes
I’ve been lost in her eyes since, but I’ve never felt so much safety in a heart
She’s God best piece of art
A canvas
Riddled with perfection
The only thing left is for me to pop the question

Will you...?

Dear Readers

Thank you.
For all the times that you took an asset as valuable as time, to exercise the art of word play, to convey messages that my mouth can’t, for reasons you may never know, I thank you.

It’s not everyday that one openly expresses themselves to a stranger, and they respond with understanding. How can a platform so anonymous feel so warm? My heart is humbled!

I hope his hugs feel safe and secure.
I hope his actions are as active as his words
I hope his love surpasses the thought of being less than what you are
I hope his mind never wanders from yours and I hope his heart beats with syllables of your name while his veins pump the respect you deserve

I hope your smile is genuine and real and I hope your heart is content with his love
I hope your being finds comfort in his
I hope your love for him is as strong as the fibers that knit eternity into the souls of your mate
I hope your soul merges with his like a soulmate should

I wish you happiness
I wish you joy
I wish you have peace

I miss what we had
I miss the long walks, the lunch dates that turned to dinner dates.
I miss the ice cream stops, that had us lost in conversation, not looking for direction because being lost in your company means I had reached my destination.

I miss the late night calls, that turned to early morning calls.
I miss having the sound of your voice whisper joys of laughter in my ear while I smirk secretly, taking pride in making my lady laugh to a point where her laugh was inaudible, now she’s totally inaudible. I hardly hear her voice and my day goes by without her saying hi, and sometimes I feel like this is goodbye.

Goodbye to the memories, and the future. Goodbye to the past, and the future and now when I do role call, Absent is always in attendance, taking your place, almost like you were never there but my mind holds evidence of your presence, and now you’re always present in every thought and every action, and not to mention how I find myself making conversation of our old conversations, and starring closely at your pictures, hoping that somehow, life will favor me with you, and somehow you’d jump out these pictures on my communication device so I can communicate with you without needing this device.

Somehow, I wish the Present will come to its senses, so we can, once again, finish each other sentences. If not, I’ll settle for just your essence that I apply like a fragrance, walking around with your scent like a cologne or fragrance that never loses its scent, it doesn’t make sense how I have to live without you because life has been quite heavy and at some point I lived for you.

And no, I won’t die without you but my perception of love and my willingness to love will. I don’t see life without you but if I have to, I might as well have one Rib. I’ll be Adam who doesn’t need no Eve that will leave on the eve of their forever. I will be Adam in the garden of Eden, working and praying to God that the pain of not having my rib won’t pierce my heart like how Jesus’ side was pierced, and just like Jesus, if that pain ever manifested I’d bleed love, and every trace of you.

If the pain ever pierced my side, I’d bleed out. My insides will have your finger prints on it, and I know it doesn’t make sense to have finger prints on a dense liquid but your touch is so deep that my blood would bleed the fragrance of your essence, and your words would be the vessels to having experienced your presence, and my heart would embody your body as my body embraced yours, so vigorously, but cautiously because passion and pleasure need to make room for love, just like how I made room in my heart for you.

If I ever have to live without you, I will accept it and move on. I will forget about you, and never speak of you. I, will live my life having forgotten you ever existed. Haha, I know right. I had myself going for a moment. If I ever have to live life without you, let life live life without me.

I wish I had more time with her
I wish I had more time to show her how much love I had for her.
I wish I had more time to make her feel special and wanted, mostly needed because I couldn’t go too long without craving her presence.
I wish I didn’t think I was in over my head
I never even say that cause I kinda don’t know what it means but that doesn’t matter because I wanted to show her that she mattered past the things that never made sense to me, until she came along

I mean, I’d never truly believed in having a happy home until she came along
She made me look forward to having her wake up next to me and her eyes meeting mine almost like how the moon meets the sun in a solar eclipse, and our lips lock like the lock she has on my heart. I couldn’t wait to wake up next to her, and giggle because ... if I’m totally honest.. no one has **** breath when they wake up but if there’s anyone I’d love to wake up next to with stank breath, it would be her.

I never believed that I could be a great partner but she made me believe that I had the capability and ability to make her so happy that all her past relationships would have been testing grounds for the actual thing.

I never believed in spending the rest of my life with one person until she became the one person I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life  without

I never believed in love at first sight. I still don’t. I think that’s slightly emotionally impossible to place so much trust in one person after just one encounter. When I saw her for the first time, I didn’t even see her in that light. I didn’t think something so good could come from her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s amazing and she’s been amazing since I met her but I guess my insecurities overtook my logic and now I look stupid because I’ve been in the presence of perfection and I treated her like she was basic.

That’s a lie.
I treat her like gold, and I understand that there’s times where she’ll slip through my fingers because she constantly growing, so every time she gets melted down, she gets sculpted back up so perfectly. I guess there is such a thing we refer to as love at first sight. Waking up to her every morning would be the story of love at first sight.

Imagine waking up to your forever and she actually wants to be there. I know, it sounds odd, right? But imagine that you wake up next to someone who actually needs you just as much as you need them? I guess that is why I keep falling in love with her... because she keeps falling in love with me

It’s been a few years that most of my words have been centered around your existence
It seems like having you in my life has given me the voice I wish I had sooner

It seems that your presence evokes emotions that I would be oblivious to, had I not met you.

I’m still trying to figure this out.

I’m trying to make sense of why you’re so important. I thought I had it all figured out but I’m so tied to you that detaching would leave me more tangled than the ties I have to you

This seems like a deep hurt, and a heavy pain
It seems like I’ve been held against my will
It seems like I am captive to the beauty of your essence

If anything, this has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Too many seasons have passed, and when Fall came, we fell too.

I tripped over fairytales, and you tripped over reality. On your way down, I guess you dragged me down with you. I say that because a fairytale love is better than the “reality love” because reality makes us conscious of situations rather than each other’s presence. Fairytale love makes us oblivious to situations with intentions of hopefully not encountering hiccups along the way, but change of seasons are usually accompanied with sickness, so hiccups are bound to slow us down every now and then, but never forever.

You have been the reason that I get through most seasons. You’ve been answered prayers in your speech, and in your silence. You have been lessons. I have learned. I keep learning.

What I fail to understand is how two people that fall, stand up together. I fail to understand how the base of our bond was centered around being a safe space for each other, and when it matters most, the cold feet season seeps in and you get jittery about your insecurities, almost like you never nurtured mine.

I get scared too
Everyday, to be honest
I’m scared that I won’t be enough to keep you intrigued. I get scared that I won’t be able to keep up. I get scared that I might have to live life without you being a part of it. I get scared that I will have to wake up next to my second choice, knowing deep down that you are my one and only.

I think I get it
When things are going good, we get scared
Culture has taught us that too much of a good thing is bad for you. I can assure you, I’m not all good. I have issues, as do you. I make mistakes, as do you. I am fragile, as you are. We’re both clumsy.

I can hear the glass breaking already
I can see the mess on the kitchen floor of our fragile house - if you thought we were the glasses, then I guess you don’t see us past what we’ve unknowingly built.

Welcome home...?

I have a bad habit of listening to sad music when I’m sad. To come to think about it, it’s not actually sad music. It’s just music that closest relates to how I’m feeling at that moment

I guess we cling onto the things that allow us to loath in our pain, and rhythms and rhymes keep us wrapped up in self pity, but at the same time, I feel like I need to be at my worst to get to my best. It’s just a whole mix up.

My life is a playlist.
My playlist is as random as the shuffle button.
You never know what you’re going to get until you get it.
I already have a weird taste in music.
I could go from the calmest, most soothing song to some death metal music. I heard black people don’t listen to heavy metal. That isn’t entirely true. We do listen to heavy metal.... when we’re in a car with white people

Sometimes, heavy metal is the order of the day
With the rowdy instruments and the high pitched voice, sometimes it’s hard to make sense of what we don’t understand. After such a wild song, you can bet my ears are ringing even after the songs done, and that’s why I feel like my life is a playlist. You know never know what you’re getting until you get it and after you get what you got, the pain and trauma linger in your life a little after the song ends, and the funny thing about a playlist is that it’s consistent with the different songs and it’s not a respecter of the last song so you can have 3 heavy metal songs play in a row, by the time a good calm song comes on, you can hardly hear it and that’s why sometimes I can hardly hear her.

After 3 bad relationships, when the right one comes along, my heart is still beating to the pain my past has inflicted and now she’s wondering why my heart doesn’t beat for her... it’s because it beats for them...

I know how this sounds but I’m over them.
Well, I am. I think I am. It’s a little confusing because every time she says I love you, my heart feels a little pain because that last person to say that to my heart, ended breaking it.

I know what this sounds like
I do love her, too. Most of the time.
I’m just being honest. On the days I don’t love her it’s purely because I feel that I don’t deserve to be with her in the state that I’m in.

I know her playlist is also on shuffle
I just want to be that artist that she’s been waiting for. The one whose music is flawed but true. It’s genuine. I want to be the artist that makes all the other artists look like mumble rappers. Their beats move me more than their words do. I know that it seems like I’m going at other genres, and I’m actually not. Just like I’m entitled to an opinion, I know what she likes because she shares her opinions with me, and loud noises, high pitched voices, sick beats with no meaning behind their words isn’t what she likes.

I’ve mastered the art of layering everything she likes, into one song so even when she has a terrible set of songs, there’s one song that will come along and restore what every other song took away. I make her whole with my broken pieces and it’s intentionally so because I was produced, mixed and mastered to the tune of her life so she’s always compatible with my content. She’s always content when listening to the sounds of a her heartbeat, through the earphones of my chest, which ultimately lead to my heart. I’m her favorite song, and she’s my favorite listener.

If I had a Rand for every time I heard that, I’d be a good R10 richer in the space of 3 years and 10 potentials. I know what this looks like but, for the first time in the history of man, can I say... It’s not what it looks like.. and, it’s actually not what it looks like

I’ve given so much of myself to the well-being of her and she gave me the default response for every female that claims that they want a good man until they encounter one. I am not ready.

She laughs in my company, and genuinely laughs without the fear of being hurt. Between my bad jokes and painful roasts, she finds safety without any attachment. She gets all of me without having to commit to a forever that will leave her happier than she would be chasing the so called “f-boy”
I guess females these days tend to hide behind their words. They say what they don’t mean and they don’t mean what they say so when it’s time to account for what’s been said, they plead the fifth with evidence being the very man they hit with their most famous line. I am not ready.

The best part is when they tell you how they need you but they’re too scared of heartbreak, but if they’re ex called, they’d offer him the same opportunity to break their heart all over again, so when a guy like me comes into to town to turn that frown upside down, she boldly reaches in to her timidity and ignorance, and with all the strength she has left to make a good decision, she says .. I am not ready, but surely if he came back and apologized, you wouldn’t think twice about the compromise, and you’d fantasize about all the lies, and the tears you cried and somehow, your ******* would let this ***** back into your life!

I’m sorry, none of you are ******* but y’all do stupid things, just like we all do. I guess my frustration is you know I can treat you better but you’re settling for someone who’s settled in on being less than the man you need him to. I know I’m not perfect, neither am I judgmental, but I bet you R10, I’m further along than he is with treating you right.

I’m not promising rainbows and sunshine. I’m promising consistency. I will consistently fall in love with you even on days you don’t love yourself, or even me. I understand that people fight all the time, and I heard make up *** is pretty amazing so will I intentionally fight with you every now and then? No, I won’t. That’s a lie, yes, I will. I guess it wouldn’t be purely based on making up afterwards. I guess it would be based on my fears and insecurities, so sometimes I’ll fight with you to see if you’re still down for me and I know that doesn’t make sense, and I told you I ain’t perfect, but I’d love to still feel wanted even on days I don’t want to be myself.... or on days where I beat myself up for not doing enough, while having 24hour days, and no sleep.... trying to chase a dream that I can’t wait to live out - with you.

I won’t promise you anything I can’t deliver. So, you’re going to be very familiar with kisses... yeah, I will kiss you for anything and everything.. break a nail, mwah, love you boo! You make me laugh, mwah, love you boo. Drop a smelly bomb... you guessed it.. mwah, I love you boo! I grab ***, anytime. Sometimes, by accident but mostly on purpose. I give lengthy hugs. If you’re running late, that’s on you... not me.. come give me some sugar.. I love loving on you in any and every way, and your voice would be the soundtrack to my life.. I will cherish your presence almost like everyday is the last day I have with you, and sometimes, I hold grudges, but just kiss my neck and I will even forget what I was mad about

What I’m trying to say is love will always be present. The absence of love is something you’ll never know of. I will make you so happy that, days will feel like....... sorry... what... oh? You’re not ready?...

Typical
It’s what every guy does.
Faithfulness and loyalty are a thing of the past, just like chivalry.
Anyone who possesses those traits is vintage because our era does not love the way we’re supposed to.

In our own right, we’re all liars and karma usually does rounds, and it’s not too long till karma will read you your rights - you have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law - courtship was how it started.

You see, I had a stable relationship with my dreams and things were getting pretty serious.

I was loyal to my dreams for as long as I could remember. I used to open doors for my dreams, make sure my dreams stayed fed and I even had to cut ties with people who didn’t have the vision or perspective to see further than where we were - I cut off the blind.

Till this day, some of them still wonder why. Stevie, Wonder.

I would live for my dreams because dying for my dreams actually wouldn’t make sense but I worked on my dreams like I was dying tomorrow and all I wanted was to live long enough to have loved the doubt of my dreams.

One cold day, my dreams were out on business. It was one of those days where I could work from home, but my dreams couldn’t. My dreams were away on business and the bed got cold.

I was never used to sleeping alone so I hit up an ex, or two. Insecurities never pass up the opportunity for a late night ******* and neither does doubt.

This is a twisted *******, because my dreams are now tangled in a love triangle - or a love square ... I don’t know but whatever it is, it’s reshaped my vision and now from working out everyday, one night turned it all around and now I’m out of shape, still moving but in a circle. I’ve been around, but not long enough for a pattern to form - I gave up.

Faithfulness and loyalty are rare and outdated and chivalry is a thing of the past, and one would be considered vintage for possessing those traits.

Much like me, I don’t possess those traits but I’m a traitor to my own society.

I believed in myself long enough for the sight of greatness to manifest but one unfaithful night made me regress and now I’m broke.

I spent all my ambition on land that isn’t fertile. I thought I was planting my greatness so it could grow but I was burying my greatness and I realized I had let it go.

We don’t Resuscitate dreams, we replace them. Well, I do.

I promise to have and to hold you, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.

What ushered most into matrimony, tied me to the death of my dreams. Till death, do us part.

The day greeted her with the morning sun
As dew turned to tiny droplets and mist disappeared while the light appeared, it was evident that it was a new day.

She turned to her side and her skin was met with the cool touch of her lover.
She was facing him but he was facing the other direction but she didn’t hesitate to pull him into position so her lips could converse with his and their eyes could get reacquainted after what just felt like the first kiss - she was happy.

Her soft morning voice mustered up the strength to say good morning and he chuckled and looked her dead in her eyes, almost in disbelief that she was his.

“Good morning” he whispered
His smile painted the room
It got bigger with every second she spent looking in his direction
She giggled because she should be used to this but all of this feels just as new as the day that’s just started - they were falling in Love all over again

She played her hands along his face
The tenderness of her hands provoked the goosebumps on his neck and body with cold shivers leaping around his body, and butterflies learning to fly for the first time in his belly - he was in love all over again.

“Do you know why I love you so much,” he asked.
“I never get tired of hearing you tell me why,” she responded.

Just as he was about to start telling her why he loved her so much, a loud roaring sound pierced her ears, and she could hardly hear anything or make sense of what was happening and she looked at him for help but he couldn’t be bothered, not because he didn’t care, but because it was a dream.

She woke up to the loud piercing noise being her alarm and she turned it off and tried to fall asleep again to let her dream take off from where she left off but it was just a dream.

Days earlier, she ran back to the love of her life. She was a day too late. The man of her dreams was just that. The man of her dreams. Time wasted was never time recovered. When she searched, she couldn’t find. When he searched, she didn’t want to be found.

He waited.
And waited.

The day he stopped waiting was the day she decided to stop running from what was destined. Destiny, like time, waits for no one. A harsh reality of our time. What once was, won’t always be.

Don’t be a day late.

Dear You
I have written many stories that tell tale of how my love is wrapped around the essence of your being and how being away from you leaves me wanting more of you.

When I can’t have you, I resort to dreaming about you and sometimes I talk about you but how do you explain perfection to feeble minds, that can’t comprehend the depth of your heart, and they fail to fathom the reason why you’ve always mattered - nonetheless, my feelings I never fail to express, like the express train, my love is filled with different stories on the same track - you’re the choo choo to my train!

On the railways of life, I’ve transitioned from rail to rail, at speeds a little uncomfortable to take turns. Just like the carriages, you stuck by.

For most of my life I’ve been powered by coal, leaving smoke everywhere I’ve been. Not such a bad thing because that only means I was always moving.

I’ve upgraded though.
I’m more of a fully functioning electric train that doesn’t pollute my journey, and it’s eco friendly to you because your hands are no longer ***** from constantly shoveling coal into an engine that turned that coal to smoke.

My choo choo is a little more sophisticated now. It’s got class. It’s got you. On the railway of life, wherever this train arrives, I don’t care. As long as you’re there

He lied
He said he loved you
He lied
He said he cared
He lied
He said he couldn’t live without you
He lied
He said that he was the luckiest man alive
He lied

He lied and I didn’t
I told you I love you
I told you that I care
I can’t live without you
He’s not the luckiest man because I am

I am not his mistakes
I am my own mistakes

I fall down
I get back up

I don’t stop
I keep going

Why?

Because I have you
You’re my secret weapon
When they ask how I do it I just smile and say that I just don’t stop

I just don’t stop going because you keep me going

Our minds function with familiarity.
When your nose picks up a scent you’re familiar with - your mind plays parts of your life where that scent can be placed. It triggers memories.

I was close enough to hear her breathe and while I was lost in conversation, my mind was playing all the memories that associate her scent to different parts of my life.

The notion of your life flashing in front of you in a near death experience is one half of the truth.

What happens when your mind associates a scent that’s been a part of you long enough to play a movie reel of most of your life, based on placing that specific scent to parts of your life?

What happens when she’s been a part of your life long enough for it to seem that your whole life just flashed in front of you, based on your mind associating a scent to the times in your life that it was present.

Her scent tied to so many memories that my mind got a little confused into thinking that my life just consisted of memories of her.

In actual fact, my mind went a step further to associating the feelings tied to the scent, and memories being associated with time I had spent with her, and my nose triggered the association of the time I spent with her so my mind opened up the archives just to find that the clear memories are recent, and the old memories seem recent but they’re not, but every memory is tied to parts of my life that seem to make up most of my life - she’s been there the whole time.

The memories associated her voice to parts of my life when I couldn’t hear my own, and her laugh to parts of my life where I couldn’t stand being away from her. She reminded me of how much I’ve always wanted her and now she reminds me of how much I need her.

She holds the second biggest role in my life, after myself, of course. I’m the lead actor, and not only is she a supporting cast but she supports my craft, too. She’s a Creative, an Executive, an Editor, a Narrator and sometimes even a Writer.

She creates scenes that make me believe, again.

She executively executes her role so effortlessly that I’d be a fool to downplay her importance.

She edits the bad parts, so they make sense and she narrates the story from different perspectives, plotting the synopsis, and playing one of the biggest parts in this story - she’s my favorite character.

She writes my wrongs, and I right my wrongs.

She yells “Cut” every now and then. Between scenes, when I’m on the verge of breaking, she takes me to the dressing room and she helps me take off my insecurities and my fears, and that’s when things usually get clear.

All of this just because she breathed in my direction long enough for me to remember her scent.

There would be no confusion of CPR conflicting the act, or any loud voices shouting ‘Clear!’ And I’d be clear of it all. I would no longer have to live painfully. I wouldn’t have to live life trying to make sense of broken pieces I never had any business breaking.

Do Not Resuscitate me. If I die prematurely, Death is on time. Premature to you and time, based on whose standard, yours or mine?

Truthfully if I was dying I wouldn’t want you stop trying to resuscitate me and you can bet that I’m terrified and I’m waiting to have my eyes open, meeting yours with the tears cuddling your pupils and you get upset with me for wanting to go so early and this fairytale story ends with us living happily ever after, but...

That’s not the happily ever after I want after near death experiences - I want it now.

DNR
No
NHM

*****, Help Me!

Today is the day
Today is the day where I ask the love of my life to be my wife, and be mine forever.
I’ve plotted out the geography of the day and the weather is almost perfect.
The only thing missing is the shine of her smile when she accepts my proposal.

I’ve planned it all out
I’ve got my speech and I’ve got the ring.
Dinner, followed with a little night drive to a secret location where I can profess my love, and fulfill the first part of the promise of forever - the promise to commitment

I’ve known her forever
Well, that’s not true.
I’ve known her long enough to want to know forever.
I know what she likes, and I know what she hates. I know what she loves - me. I know what she doesn’t love - her ex!
Score!

I’ve seen her cry
I’ve seen her smile and of the two, I just want to be around for them both.

I know her dreams and aspirations. I know her future husband quite well, too. I might have an idea of what her kids might look like. I don’t mean to give too much away but I can assure you that they’ll have her smile, and her eyes and my nose because I don’t want our kids having some big *** nose, busy putting their nose in other peoples business - I hope they get her laugh though and I hope that they’re souls are as gracious as their mothers

I can’t wait to wake up next to her, after having fallen asleep next to her. I can’t wait to wake up and hit the shower together, make breakfast and get lost in laughter until someone checks the time and realizes that not only are we late, but we’re extremely late.

I can’t wait to rush out the house with her on important days because we were too busy enjoying our time together, rather than being conscious of time. I can’t wait to be by her side, and I especially can’t to be on top - of everything she asks me to do.

The proposal
“Love cannot exist if you are not a part of it.
Eternity will be so empty if you’re not a part of it. Time will cease to exist if it’s not you that I am sharing this time with. My life would not be the same unless I have you close enough to make it matter. I don’t want to have to go through life without you. Time has allowed, and the Heavens have agreed, now I just need you to do the same. I have loved you since, and I always will. I promise to love you and never leave you. I promise to be your place of safety. I promise to serve you and place you above myself. I promise to selflessly and endlessly love you.

Baby, will you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth and accept my proposal?

Will you marry me?”

Silence echoes through the night as the stars wait in anticipation, and the moon and the seas join together in musical harmony to create an atmosphere of crashing sounds, and waves that resemble her response, because waves are either for greetings or farewells and her hand waves, and so does her head - it’s shaking. Her eyes tear up and her hand covers her mouth, and what was once my biggest fear is now my sad reality - she says no.

She turns away from our forever and walks away into neverland. The love of my life has just walked out of my life.

A smooth criminal for stealing my heart just to be caught red handed... guilty of making me fall in love but innocent of sharing the same feelings... she said no..

This is an instruction of a dying man. He signs a form that prohibits the doctor from going to extreme lengths to keep him alive. This is indirectly consented suicide. This is the act of a man who no longer wants to live. This, is the instruction of a dying man.

So, Death is knocking at the door and I have decided to not let Deaths’ knock go unanswered. I’ve lived all the life I was meant to and now my body has run its course because it wasn’t meant to get me passed this point - I am about to die.

Family and friends wrapped closely around me like the love they have for me and I’ve left them no control over my life. I’ve made a decision I don’t have to live with - but they do.

If it’s my time, and I’ve done all I can in this life, do not resuscitate me. Do not bring me back to a life where my purpose is fulfilled, and my destiny has been made manifest. Don’t bring me back to be a dormant body watching the fruits of my work! Do Not Resuscitate me

No one knows their time. The painful truth is, when the time comes, that’s hardly the wrong time. If we had a say on when to go, I have a feeling we’d still wipe ourselves out early. We’re already afraid to live, what more if we had the choice. If we had the choice, that would render the works of Marvel irrelevant! Thanos wouldn’t be so bitter about life, but the rest of us would.

We would end our conversations with “Good nights” and tell them to “sleep tight” and they’d take us literal. It would be a good night for them to sleep tight enough to fit inside a coffin. Death would be proud to not have to scour the earth preying on life.

Do Not Resuscitate me
If time allows, and the Heavens agree, I will embark on my last journey with the last few breathes I have. I will boldly walk into the light, and I’d be anxious to see what’s on the other side. I wouldn’t look back.

To be continued..

I gave her my heart
I placed it in her hands
I know she’s clumsy
But
I trust her

I made her a promise
I told she could keep my heart forever
No conditions
I told her that it’s an honor

Regardless of the outcome - it’s an honor
To be held by love in its purest form
To be in love with her
To be with her - a blessing

I made her a promise
I said I would never intentionally hurt her
If I ever did - it would never be on purpose
I’m clumsy too
I’m insecure
I overthink
A lot.
It’s overwhelming

I made her a promise
To make sure she knows I’m here
Even on her worst days
I’d be Superman to her Smallville

I made her a promise that she would wake up next to me every morning
I made her a promise that we would be forever - together
I made myself a promise to never lay eyes on one as beautiful as her

As scary as this may sound - to me
When I said all of this
I never had my fingers crossed

They say death brings perspective
It opens your eyes to things you’ve willingly or unwillingly been oblivious to
Death ironically opens your eyes to more
At the same time, death tragically takes away a part of you

I remember having experienced the first tragic death
It was tailored and chaperoned by maliciousness
It was some sort of a hate crime for being in the right place at the wrong time
I remember the pain like it was yesterday
Years have went by along with memories I’ve  lost
It seems as if time gives us a limited amount of time
Time, becomes a thief to memory because our brains are wired to remember repetition and consistency, and because you’re no longer in a position to receive that from the deceased, it seems that the memories decrease.

Death is as consistent as the memories we hold. Time allowed me to witness my peer carried away in a coffin for being in the right place, at the wrong time. Mistakes and accidents are claiming lives like there’s an outstanding bounty on our lives. Accidents are a new form of a hitman, because she got hit, by man. Assassinated at the speed of a bullet, yet there was no gun and no trigger. Death plays a unfair game, with an unfair advantage of never being seen until, you’re in the right place at the wrong time.

Death, never knocks on doors.
Death opens doors, creeps in while you’re asleep, just to leave you in the same position, just without the sleep, nor the air in your lungs. Death, yet again, takes without consent and gets away every time because death needs no explanation, nor time to do what needs to be done. There’s reasoning behind the deaths, and pain is the coping mechanism, and comfort is the supposed reasoning. We can never ask why because the only person who spoke to death and lives to talk about it, ascended to the Heavens, waiting to grace is with His presence, and His essence. A day we long for, and the day Death lives for.

The thought of another mans hands clutching your waistline, infuriates my mind, more than my heart. See, I’ve had my heart make most of the decisions without consulting my mind, and now the two are at war. My hearts argument is love and my minds argument is logic.

However, it doesn’t make logical sense to have to live the rest of my life without you so this time, I’m following my heart with the experience pain has given me.

I’m following my heart because time has been taken away from me in the form of having to already live without you, and it would be an injustice to my life to have to have the oxygen in my lungs escape every few seconds without you close enough to hear it.

My heart and my mind have held you close once before, and once again, they have the opportunity to do so.

This time, I’ve involved more than just my heart and mind. I’ve invited time to allow me to take my time to love you. Every second will be dedicated to our forever, and mind you, I’ll be mindful of you to my hearts content. I’ll love you like my heart intended to before, with a love refurbished, it will all seem so new.

I’ll love you with the same enthusiasm the sun rushes into a new day with. I’ll love you with the same enthusiasm that the moon decorates the night sky with. I’ll love you as perfectly as the waters touch the shores, never crossing its bounds...

The only tsunami you’ll experience will be my body on yours... with waves of passion, I’ll rip through your clothes like .... like, only you can imagine..

My Love has evolved
I’ve come to see you as my forever, with a whole lot of pleasure. You and I, forever?

I’m told that you’d always despise the man who managed to gain your woman’s attention long enough for it to put a permanent hold on your love for her. I’m told that, you’d despise the existence of the man who was able to win her over faster than you could hold her.

I’m told that, you’d never forgive the man who stole what was once a piece of your happiness. I’m told that my vocabulary would never extend past hatred and regret.

I’m told that the hatred would run so deep that remorse would cease to exist and forgiveness would be as distant as he led your woman to be from me.

I’m told that rage would be the mediator of the centuries best ***-whoopin’... man if I ever put hands on him, they’d put cuffs on me, put me in cell number 3, throw away the key and **** well forget about me like how she did every time he smiled in her direction.

My prison sentence would equate to how she deemed my existence a jail cell, confined to four corners, 3 square meals and a bed to offload the despair of being trapped.

I’d imagine that, at this point, he would be the prison guard who talks to her and ***** her every time she gets lonely in her four cornered cell.

The thoughts of his arms kindly caressing your skin, as his lips play hop scotch all over your body. I see his nose welcoming the fragrance of your skin, and his hands lightly touching you like the oceans touch the sands.

I see your smile meeting his, almost mischievously. Your hearts both racing, it feels so wrong but why does it feel so right. As his lips slowly make their way down to your hips that supposedly don’t lie, you welcome him with a deep gasp....

He knows what he’s doing because it’s not the first time, but it sure feels like it. You run your hands all over his head, as he ...

Groans and moans that echo into the dim lit room, echoed by the walls, that have ears but no mouth. He continues to send you into a deep trance.

Even still, it feels so wrong but how do you stop it. She’s so far in, he’s so deep in and the moment is so in the moment that in that moment, she remembered that today I work at a different time and I knock off early and on cue, I walk through the door.

I walk through the door to see the love of my life, loving another life that isn’t mine... he looks up in shock.... in shock that she should’ve known better about my schedule, and not knowing better about loving me.

It’s not his first time in her room, between her legs or even in her.... space...

Her eyes look like two moons, wide as day with deeds dark as night. Explanations fade with the love she proclaimed and there I stand.

You see, I’m rather shocked that I didn’t know better. 1+1 hadn’t been equaling 2 lately. Instead of being rational, I thought my maths teacher had failed me, questioning the equation that’s as certain as the air I’m breathing...... that 1 + 1 equals 2..... 2 many times has she lied to me. 2 many times has she defiled this love... 2 many times I had given her a chance and 2 many times have I given twice the love, and not once had it equated to meaning a **** thing, I feel worthless... I’m a big OH, no, a big Zero with so much love but not enough time to find the right one to give it to.

I’m a victim to 2 much love....

My greatest fear is my greatest regret. Living in every other moment, except my own. I fear losing out on me while concentrating on what doesn’t concern me, because I’ve become so good at giving so much of me that when I have me all to myself, I don’t know what to do with me.

Every waking day is dedicated to making some one else’s day, and my day doesn’t matter because yours comes first. I come last, take that how you want but at the end the day, the good guys always finish last, but we also finish right, next to perfection laced with no regret, see I know this because I was well acquainted with making your day, everyday without fail, and now I fail to see what I would do without you, because You revolves around me like the sun to the earth, and even though you keep rotating, so I reach every side of you, it seems like I never appealed to the side that mattered

It is said that the sun will never burn out but today for the first time in a long time I’m giving the cold shoulder...

I remember when the world stopped every time she looked in my direction. I remember how rainbows used to sparkle in her eyes after showers of rain.

I remember how the sun and her skin were always in conversations and how her giggles were rays of sunlight.

I remember how her voice echoed into the silence, and how beauty and perfection would respond to the sound of familiarity. I remember how her hands touched my skin, yet touched my heart, all at once.

I remember how she would wear love over her imperfections because real is always better than insecurities, she had no business trying to make up what she never had to, to start with.

She’s beautiful. She is beautifully made and she has no competition because how does one begin to judge what they don’t understand and could never fathom, she’s raw perfection wrapped in standards set by imperfect being, and her being herself managed to do it so well that it may **** well be the closest thing that one would ever encounter that embodies the very essence of perfection!

I remember how the “I love you too” sounded because what a privilege it was to say “I love you” first to she that is the epitome of what some may call an impossibility.

I remember her like she was the part of me I longed for, and she was more than I could handle, and even so, I handled her with care, she’s still fragile, but I could never drop her, because perfection and fragility never go together, but you would never know because you’ve never known her the way I do.

I remember.

I think I’m ready for you.
I’ve spent years dissecting the language of love so we can finally understand each other.

I’ve studied love like it was a Final, and I’ve done the practicals, aced it and now I know that I’m ready for you.

You see, I’ve spent my entire life being surrounded by everything that could possibly make me more fluent speaking hate than love. I’ve learned that The language of love consists of sub-languages like forgiveness.

I’ve learned to forgive the deepest pains, and endured the deepest heartbreaks that .... made me question if I’m ready to love you.

I’ve developed a clingy, selfish love for you. It’s a thing of, “If I can’t have you, no else would be worthy to” type of love. I feel entitled to your love.

I feel that Life has taught me lessons that are specifically to learn to love you with every waking day. I’ve learned to already love you like I love the dawn of a new day.

I love you unconditionally, frequently, messy, untamed but so refreshing. I love you widely and wildly, you’re the forest of my soul, and your waters run through the veins of my soul, palpitating streams of love in and out of this heart that was designed to perfectly, love you.

I love you like God has intended me to. I love you like God sat with me while making you so I know what your fears and insecurities are, and He gave me the responsibility to love you like perfection was made possible in that moment, when He made you.

I love you impossibly. I love you so much that it exceeds your expectations and instead meeting you half way, I meet you at the end. I meet you at the end of the race, having won you over by overcoming the hurt and the hate, just to find you, the love of my life.

Dear Future Wife
I’ve loved you before, and I’ll love you after.

I opened the doors to this beautifully built heart. It had all the making of the perfect home. From the love to the affection, it became so pleasing to my soul.

The kitchen all the ingredients to happiness. All the measurements for the different ingredient, laid out on the table just waiting to be served to anyone willing to make something of it.

The bedroom was cushioned safety and warmth. These blankets covered my insecurities and doubts, and the pillow was tailored with a sweet voice, that lullabied me to sleep.

The living room was so full of life, and the couches were laced with fabrics of tender care. Engulfed in the softness of the seats, one was made to believe that perfection was in the moment.

Around the corner came a light giggle. Rays of sunlight blessed the skin of love, and the room echoed the radiance of her being. I thought I had entered perfection, and I was humbled to meet, Perfection.

She sat me down, we had a meal of conversations, digested with light giggles of laughter. Quenched our laughing moments with light smiles, and long stares.

Beauty had beckoned me to compliment perfection. How does one do so? So, I leaned over and held her. She looked at me and smiled. I whispered to her, “You’re everything I’ve hoped for, and more.”

I figured that would be the only fitting line to tell, Perfection. Tell her that her name, was not oversold.

A time has come in life to let go of love like love doesn’t live in my bones. I’ve been exposed to beauty in its purest form. I’ve experienced perfection and let me not for to mention how she wears perfection with a smile.

Her essence, her scent in on repeat on my skin, my hands long to hold the shape of her waist, while my eyes long to be brightened with a smile.

Hours go by like seconds, so disconnected from what kept me connected makes me feel like I have no reception, For a day I long for to have a reception, dined by glasses all singing tunes of announcing speeches.

A heart that was perfectly molded to suit hers, I struggle to breath without her. She’s my lifeline and in doing so, I’m tied to her ties and this leaves me ******* and tied to what was once mine.

Every time my eyes close, her image stalks me like prey. She consumes me with the laughter in her smile. The beauty in her tears and fears make me see why God makes no mistakes, but we do.

Perfection can not be held by imperfection. I know because my hand still shakes when I hold a glass of water. In efforts to quench my thirst, I drench myself in splashes of water, symbolizing my disappointment, and how comfortably it falls on me. No matter how carefully perfection is held, I never manage to keep it .... together..

I find myself thinking about you daily.
Your memories are stored on the drives of my heart, and my mind clicks on that folder, opening our history, and that's when I wish we had more tabs to open.

I guess you're the song that's always on repeat, and your lyrics somehow speak to me in way that my words cannot express. If I were to shuffle my playlist, I know I'd hear your voice in every song.
Now we're a broken record that's been placed aside. Our album cover is titled Love, but inside there's two broken pieces, almost like a puzzle, putting us together will make us whole.

You're my favorite movie. Your scenes, I recite like I wrote the script, and the emotions you evoke, leave me wanting more. Your name rolls up with the credits, while my tears roll down because the edits, edited me out.

I guess, you're my favourite instrument.
So many notes, and till today I can't play you, so I watch how others do, hoping one day my musical mind can somehow find a way to, love every note without playing it, but, enjoying it.

You're my favorite season, funny, cause you left like I didn't deserve a reason. Like winter, your love grew cold. I got cold feet saying your name, you got a cold shoulder, and you pushed me away.

You're still my favorite piece of art. I love the color of your soul. The contours of your brush kissed smile, I swear, I'll never have enough to buy you, but I have plenty of room to have you, and if this gallery gets lonely, please trust that it's only because all the art was never as fancy, so I'd buy out the place, just so you can stand out the way you should. Beautiful, with a message that only I can understand.

She had a blue smile
A smile that sparkled rays of sunlight
A smile that giggled rainbows, shades with an endless forever of sunshine.

But, she wore sadness like a dark sky
She cried clouds of tears
And her fears pierced the sky like lightning.

Loud, and quick.

Like lightning, she made a sound moments later, but her actions struck at the speed of light, leaving nothing but a trail of her brokenness.

There's days when she'd rage cubicles of ice, and even under my umbrella, I was never safe. I found solace indoors, away from her.

I remember visiting her.
I had to put on a raincoat, and hide under my umbrella.

We used to share an umbrella, Rihanna.
No matter the weather, we would still walk on sunshine.
We would take breaks, somewhere under the rainbows, and our shadows were always behind us, but her shadow consumed her, and now she hails with torment, with winds travelling at speeds of depression, and this forecast is done by one who had her heart like it was his only possession.

This storm, classified as hurricane "I've never seen this before" with predictions of "I wish I could save you."

The weather man is telling me to stay indoors until it passes, but I can't stand to see her pass with the storm......

With a trail of destruction behind her, under the rubble... you'll find me... collateral damage .....

I once had a friend, who understood that I couldn't always be a hero.
I had a friend that understood that, in their presence, I'd be most vulnerable, so this friend of mine made the environment so comforting, by making me comfortable with being weakest, around them.

My friend would, lay me in a bed of safety, with sheets of security, and I had to kick off my insecurities, almost like how I kick off my shoes just before I get in bed.

My friend would, read me bedtime stories of how hero's hang their capes at night, after a long day of being heroic.

My friend understood that failure was my kryptonite, so, I would come to this sanctuary, beaten and bruised with words I hoped would mean the opposite, because my aim is to make you happy, and even still, you turn to me and call me heartbreak like it's my superhero name.

They say a hero is everything people can't be, and since they can't be me, the real hero is the real me.

You see, this friend of mine made me believe in first impressions a little more, because even though they didn't know your intentions were pure, soon they'd realise that you're an antidote, the people's cure.

In my journey, I learned that my friend loved me. My friend cared enough to wash my bruised self esteem and stitch my scars carved into soul.

In turn, I learned about how to be a better friend, and love the way my friend loved me. I learned that every hero, needs a safe house, and my safe house had a heart of gold, and with my heroic instincts, I treated gold as if it would be stolen by this thief called insufficient time.

This heart was my life line, and I would never let go of this life supply. My nature soon became part of my safe house's heartbeat.

I fell in love with the time I had with this friend of mine. For a year in my life, I had a privilege to call her mine, and she called me hers.

Insufficient time was our last name.
I was the people's hero, and she was mine.
Time, had plans I couldn't alter,  even with my special powers, to time, I lost her.

I don't cry a lot, or at all for that matter.
I've fooled myself into thinking strength, isn't comforted by weakness.
Truth is, weakness is the builder of strength.

I find that so contradictory, because what breaks me, tears me up and what strengthens me, builds my character up.

No one decides, which is which.
We have feminists arguing on behalf of the woman, dictating and reasoning for emotional expressions, but society judges being make and falling.

Being a man, is a matter of endurance through hardships, breaking sweats, but never breaking a tear, because water works shouldn't work on male species, because feeling, isn't in our nature, says society.

So, we aimlessly tear through the jungle, hunting for what we don't know, looking for a next meal, never being content, because, contentment is not part of our nature, says society.

With private parts being made public, we move through the next with being hesitant, by the time she realizes, she's already been ******.

Break hearts, play hearts and acting like we have hearts. That's society's perception of the male species.

Society never talks about, the clean up crew.
Society, never speaks about me.

Society never speaks about my ****** hands with cuts of your broken heart, and with missing body parts try to bring aid to your heart.

Society never speaks about trying to make you understand how I'm different, and with countless bouquets, it's never okay to let me in because you let him in, and from the *******, he left like you were nothing, and now that you have something, you won't let me in.

He penetrated your skin, and I'm not fascinated by it, I was see your soul unmasked to mine, so I explore your soul before your body, and these steps I take on hot coal, because he didn't care so much so that the cuts burn.

Your soul is almost like a morgue, I swear it's like your heart has been cremated, with an invite to your funeral, I hope you spread your ashes on my heart, so once again you can feel something whole, again.

This poem is for broken hearts, shattered dreams and answered questions of "why?".

For the broken hearts that were once whole, held in the palms of perfection just to get rejection and now your reflection looks imperfect, constantly seeking correction for your physical impression.

Maybe your outer appearance doesn't appear as your inside appearance, but I swear on your broken heart, that your beauty is unquestionable, and outspoken, so much so that you were too much good, for mediocre, and mediocre broke down and broke you down trying to keep up.

Maybe your significant other was never enough for you, so you were insignificant to the insignificant person, and now... you're unfathomable and your depth is profoundly misunderstood, under circumstances of a lack of maturity to understand that love is always giving and never selfish, and people who break hearts haven't mastered the art of loving and giving, without expecting because ...

Because, you've been taken for granted for so long that you don't remember that worth means value, and valued souls never get thrown out...

Broken dreams from broken hearts, now your blurred vision has broken your future endeavors, because you believed in a forever that actually meant never...

Your dreams of happily ever after, become dreams of I wished I'd always had her..

And why was I so ignorant to myself?
Why did I sell myself short?
Why was I never enough?
Why did I lose you?

I am always the first person I blame when something goes wrong. I'm the first perpetrator, and never a victim. Even when I get shot, I take mug shots of myself.

Love, is a feeling that can cover the distance the kilometers bring.
It can climb the mountains that separate us.
Love can swim the tides that wave goodbye.
Love can do what is impossible, just by existing in two hearts that don't mind being in two different places with two of the same people who wish only two things.
They wished that the distance would somehow disappear, and they wished that they'd be inseparable by any measure of time, or any distance on earth.

Some days, I wish we could govern the things that break us apart with space, so I'd have control over seeing you, which would be always, cause there's no way that I could go a day without seeing your face, and I choose not waste time we can never recycle because time is an endless cycle of the now, because the later could be a broken promise from your mind.

I don't want time to stand still when I'm with you, I want all the emotions that tickle the butterflies in our tummies to pause, while we play out the uncontrollable lust for perfection, burying the thought of our imperfection in time, so it may somehow die like the broken promise of our lives being forever.

Distance should be two hearts closer than ever, loving from two different sides of the world without a doubt that either one has started loving less, even when the feeling becomes a little less, with the communication becoming a little, and our time on earth decreasing like it was meant to be less.

Love, is a emotional attachment to two spirited souls, that unfold the many wonders of souls. Love is the perfection to this imperfection of time.

Time and distance is why love is so persistent.
You're the reason I'm so persistent.
You're the reason I can't force this resistance to heed so we can take a step back and breath the same air, while we touch our hearts with love, love... Love...

New Girl

She has a beautiful smile.
She has lovely eyes.
Her voice is melodies of gold, played as platinum records on the drums of my ears.
Her skin as soft as her heart with a touch as gentle as the love she could have if she loved herself enough, to get loved.

Her self esteem is deflated by sharp words that puncture wounds into her perfection, so she's constantly rejecting gestures of compliments because all she knows is her imperfection.

Put her in a dark room and she'd still wonder about her reflection.
If her soul could reflect her physical appeal, would she then see how beautiful she could be if she she could free herself from those who find satisfaction from stealing her beauty.

Seems like her walls are twice as high as her confidence, cause her flaws got high on insults, and no matter how many compliments she drank, she was never drunk long enough for her to forget what insults sounded like.

I mean, I've had one conversation with her. She never said much, but I heard so much more than what she could say. I could tell her eyes were curious about me, but her mind reminded her that if she got too close, I'd never be mindful of her.

According to her, my aim is at her flaws. She sees me holding a gun full of emotionally draining bullets. She thinks I plan on firing her the same way her self esteem burned her so much that she can't tell a flame from a spark, so every conversation I try and spark, she puts it out with her flame of disbelief. She fights fire with fire.

Baby, I'm just trying to extinguish your fire so you never get burned again.

So, we're finally apart.
The pain is so unbearable, I don't know where to start.

I have to act strong, for so long, cause I long for the day we will get along.

I wish I had a song to sing, about how I dreamed to bless your hand with a ring, and now you came like a Bee just to leave a sting.

I should be going crazy, but my emotions tend to get lazy, and maybe that just all I've been doing lately.

I want to talk to you, walk with you. I wish to see you so I can look into your lovely eyes, and probably cry, with relief and a heavy sigh.

I want to love you, unconditionally. I want to love you for who you are.
But I just can't do it again, thinking you'd appreciate it for the second time, when you left me the first time.

We love what we think we do.
We say what we shouldn't.
We do what's never been done, and we sit with the same outcome.
We're a point less than the actual point.
We're a lot of nothing, cause we loved something that wasn't us.
Our time is less from out last timeless moment.
Every moment apart calls for a new start.
On a board we're the dart that misses the the bulls eye, but we never miss a chance to make our eyes cry.
We're like an ocean with no tide, never moving but always waving good bye to each other before we even see each other.
We're Space to our lungs cause we're in a space where there isn't air, so we fight each other for our last breaths, not realizing that the only air we're fighting is the one we had.
The one before the space we entered.
Cause we centered our air in each others hearts so we'd touch hearts, like we need to and not like we have to, and we'd touch lightly cause of the importance our hearts hold, not just to each other, but to our lungs..
Cause I can't breathe when your heart is apart from mine.
So, my heart won't beat apart from yours cause your touch carries the very essence that keeps my heart going.

I'm black but I sound white.
I have black hairs, and some of them are white.
I have spaces in between my teeth, almost like my tongue is caged up cause God gave me two filters so I only give out compliments, and I fail to express my hurts, and that's what hurts the most.
I have a weak body, with a weak heart.
A heart operated on because it was incomplete, and after a successful operation, my heart is still incomplete.
It has holes in the wrong places, and all these holes are a portal to my pain.
My heart used to pump blood, but now it pumps memories of you and I.
Sometimes I get splitting headaches thinking about you. I mean, we're not together and you're still a pain.
I took an oath to never hit a girl, but with pain you've inflicted.
I swear if you even breath in my direction, that will be the last thing you do because the last time you looked in my direction, your pretty eyes and your sweet voice took my heart and ripped it into pieces that I'm still looking for.
I left a part of me with you. It was my happiness, and despite all this pain, I still wanna find my happiness in the same place I lost.
I'm sure I'll find my sanity there too.
You're good at stealing things that make me happy, but you're even better at giving me what breaks my heart.
You're a better breaker, than a lover.
You're a stronger monster, when you're smiling.
We need to grow up?
I need to step back so you can grow up.
**** my ethnicity?
**** your existence.

Long Live Those Who Deserve it. And in saying that, this would be a perfect eulogy for your funeral.

Maybe its the way she speaks, that keeps my mind intrigued.
Every word becomes a seed to a bush full of weeds.
She is great, indeed.
Everyday I plead,
Don't take your love away from me..
See, I need you to be my freedom in a world free from freedom..

I love you,
Not just you, but every factor that makes you, you.
I don't know what I'd do, if I lost you.
My life would shatter out of the blue..
My mind would sue my heart for unfair dismissal from you.
Yes, it true
I belong to you,
No matter who tries to do us apart from our 2 man crew that no one has a clue as to why me and you behave the way we do...

When I look in your eyes,
My why's stray from lies
As my heart cries to your
Lovely sized heart which doesn't mind that you're mine and I'm yours.. With no doubt in either mind, we find our hearts drawing lines that carve forever on to the signs in our minds cause we feel like our lives are assigned to duties behind enemy lines so our problems defined become fine from kind words..

Has it occurred that we're obscured from a bigger picture that will capture us in a painting that makes our love caricature? Funny, cause this love is pure, and it remains a cure from our uncertainty to make sure we are what we were when we're supposed to be?

Let's make this clear,
Our love drives out fear
So my eyes can see her
Walk down that isle..
My arms around her as I whisper in her ear.. It's you and me, Dear..
Her sheer elegance makes her appear as my heart sees her..
Untouched with tears
Loved without chandeliers,
With no restrictions as they all flee her...

Its instinct for this distinct moment to inflict harmony with stitches of love...

Do I take you as my lawfully wedded heart bearer, to carry my heart through the sickness in this world and the health in your soul...

I do, love you..

Death.. A lesson you spend your life studying for with a guarantee you're going to pass.. Pass away..

Hello, Death? It's me, one of your victims..

Death, let me address you for a moment....

Death, you speak languages that you only understand, but our minds try to console our hearts by giving motive for you... We spend days, nights making excuses for you...

One day you speak suicide.. Half way through your sentence you speak ******... ******, you corrupt a mind to do your ***** work.. Not that would be any cleaner if you did it...

Death, you hide beneath coffins, you run behind bullets and you color the suicide note with tears...

Death, I don't get you.. You don't only steal a life... But you steal our livelihoods as well.. Isn't life enough..? Why do you come back and take tears from our eyes, put memories in our minds so we never forget your act of dismissal..

Death, you're a thief and we all condone your crimes with a church service.. We send one off to a place beyond the sky.. A place far from here... But still, that never seems to be enough..

You feast on lives like it's a buffet.. You get served with a plate full of life, and you're a fool of life cause you keep taking it away from us, as if our plates aren't full of problems..

Death, you coward.. You only look us in the eyes when our time comes.. Where were you when you sent us a warning? Funny, I opened that letter and it only had half your signature on... When I looked over to show my brother the letter, there you were running behind that bullet.... As the bullet pierced his skin, you pierced his soul with your sword of damnation.. You never killed him.. You killed us... Cause that's what he was doing when you ran behind that bullet.. He was standing up for us.. For me...

Gone, never forgotten..

I've watched enough military movies to know that, time is the most valuable asset.
One day, you're swapping bullets and the next day, you're drowning in them.
I know that every time you pick up a gun, you're holding death.
I know that every bullet is a phone call to home from your commanding officer telling your family how outstanding your service to your country has been.

Every soldier, every partner is a life on its own.
Every man for themselves because when I get killed, we can't swap places so instead we swap stories of our life cause we know that soon it's going to end.
Every mission is a doorway to a head shot, so you use your head so you don't get shot.
You assume position in the safest place only to be found by a ****** that marks you with a laser the same color as your blood, so there's no surprise when this ****** takes you out.

You served well, soldier. But your battle is over.

Things are different now.
I thought pain was the only healer of wounds.
I thought that, a few moments would make me feel better.
I thought that being away from you would do me some good.

Change is inevitable.
Pain is incredible, at this moment.
I'm enraged by happiness.
How can anyone smile, with this pain I'm carrying?
Why does the world have to be so happy, when I'm sad?
Why is everything going alright for everyone, but me?

These rhetorical questions are just as rhetorical as the actual question.
Do you love me?

Wine cellars, under a blanket reading the best sellers.
A room big enough for you and your wealth.
A car as expensive as a house.
Classy lifestyle, expensive taste.
Her breath mints, taste like money.
Rich girl.
Million dollar smile with one more million every year.
I mean, Rich Girl, smile and show me your million dollar smile.

Average kid, chasing a dream.
Never known money, so he chases it blindly.
A heart full of dreams, a mind full "get rich" schemes.
Average kid, don't know wealth so he... He looks up to the wealthy hoping he'll get the chance to have a million dollar smile, with a background of only a dollar.
Average kid, born into a struggle.
Passed down from parents to heirs, every meal a blessing as the rich girl throws a stare at her salad.
Rich girl meals are fancy foods, with fancy prices.
Average kid who checks the prices for the next slice of bread.
Average kid ain't known nothing but the struggle.
Relying on the grind with a million dollar work ethic, and a $10 minimum wage.
Reached the age of independence, scraping the bottom of the barrel, for a few extra cents.
Average kid asks the rich girl for a dollar, and she say she don't have.
Meanwhile, she doesn't know what it means, not to have a dollar.

The day our hearts met and fell in love, we planned a happily ever after.
We spent months planning to reside together, forever.
We spoke so many eternities for our reality, but it seems like we were blind cause we couldn't see this coming.

We were so confident in our forever, that we gave up on making it work, so instead we just spoke about how forever would be great not realizing forever started now.
We waited for our forever, forever till we weren't together anymore.

I mean, sleepless nights, endless conversations of how much we love one another, just to give up on this love when it got too hard.
We loved hard, and gave up even faster than our love could grow.

I guess we we're the **** to our own garden cause we're killing the happiness we rooted ourselves in.
We're a harmful pesticide that kills the flowers of forever, in our garden of remembrance cause we buried our love thinking it was a seed, but it turned out that we buried a flower that had already fully blossomed..

We murdered our love, and now we're sentenced to life away from a forever together.

I've always wanted to know how it feels to be a flame, or a dime.
I've seen people looking like they were born in perfection, with no regrets about their reflections. And looks were never a lesson they had to learn.

I've always wanted to know how it feels to be a flame, or a dime.
I've seen them smile with a perfect smile, with faces clear from lines. No scars, cause they look like stars.

I've always wanted to know how it feels to be a flame, or a dime.
I mean, looking so pretty and you do it so effortlessly and every second person throws a flirt, just to see if they could be with thee.

I've always wanted to know how it feels to be a flame, or a dime.
When you put on pajamas and still look like a runway model, while other run away from run ways cause they aren't model enough for runways.

I've always wanted to know how it feels to be a flame, or a dime.
I guess it feels like perfection cause you're in love with your reflection and you get compliments every second.

I've always wanted to know what it feels like to be a flame, or a dime.
I guess I'll never know.
Cause that's just how things go.
Looks aren't for us all.
Just for you, and your all.
You look beautiful.
I noticed that perfection fell for your reflection. I hope that was the right decision.
I hope your voice, personality  and heart are just as beautiful.

You've cried more tears than waters in oceans.
You've felt pain deeper than the lowest valleys.
You've had more sleepless nights than the light from the moon.
You've seen more than the sky has stars in the sky.
You've been momma since I've opened my eyes.
You're my first smile, my first tear.
You're my first friend.
You're my first protector, educator.
You're my first word.
You're my first love.

You're the first to rescue.
Always there when my lips utter any needs.
You're a provider.
You're my first example.

You're the last to leave when I'm down.
You're the last to cry because you strengthen your smile to stand stronger than your tears.
You're the last person I'd want to disappoint.
You're the last I'd ever wanna hurt.
You're the last person I'd wanna leave
You're the last person I'd wanna see leave this earth.

I've never felt your pain.
I've never cried your tears.

I've felt your love from day one, and after the last day your love will remain the same as the day you held me for the first time and looked me in my half opened eyes with a smile bigger than all the disappointments life had for me.
Through my trials and tribulations, I remember all your teachings.

I've learnt more from you than I could learn from a lifetime in school.

Thank you, Mother.
I love you ❤