I wanted to tell the world my feelings
but also let you know them.
I ended up trying too hard, but trying.
I could explain all the ways.
I could make some fantastic poem.
For once I won't.
Instead...                         *Thank You

Evanescent
is that the word
am I that word
hopefully not
Interminable
That is the word
you are the word
hopefully so
so funny
the word
sounds beautiful
showers with pain
so sad
the word
sounds terrifying
bask in hope

Fire that needs fueling
a place set and ready for burning
where a flame needs to ignite
needing so rightly to be kindled bright
popping and crackling
looming and glowing
so much timber settles the flames
leaving embers to start this fire

Math is so complex
using probabilities
got me all perplexed

You are my Best Friend.                                             You are my Worst Enemy.

Some days you are the best.                                      Some days I hate you the most.

All I want to do is shout, my love for you.             All I want to do is scream, the pain out.

I am lucky that you grace my world.                       I dread the very sight of you in this world.

Enjoy the laughs that we share.                                Anguish the fights that entomb us.

Sharing each and every thought.                              Keeping secrets of it all.

Touching every moment.                                               Repugnant to the slightest touch.

Eyes always relishing what they spy.                        Tongues always hissing their distaste.

Taking everything for the delightful.                         Giving only the rotten.                        

Inside only warmth; weird what is weird?              Inside only pain; weird what is weird?

The days are mine to share.                                       The days are yours to share.

And the rest I wonder why I am not there.           And the rest I wonder why you are not there.

How did we end up here?                                        How did we end up here?

While I still have the emotions.
I must write them out.
Because soon, I will once again become so stout.

I continue my writings from my other day.
I protest that I am fine, of which I am.
All I ponder is do you think I am some scam.

Are you going to run n hide or accept, forward motion.
Carrying your pantheon heart and my own carnivorous groan.
Will you walk this walk or throw a stone.

This the last of your poems unless you decide to stay.
Tomorrow, maybe you will make me cry.
After the fact you are just a girl, and I just some guy