For the thousand'th time, I am a complex soul,
  
And it's not just that I think that I am complete this way, I am certain I am complete this way,

On that note, I will be out here,
Screaming f*ck And praise love at the same time,
Until am a dead poet

We met on November,
I still fell for her in November
She, I had her in my arms at December,
Four, four is not my lucky number, but I remember how she fell directly for my arms,
And so by January, we had even fallen deeper,
She then placed her palm on palm, and with our fingers intertwined, it felt like we floated through February,
Honestly, I hoped that we would amount to March, and April, May turn to June,
But as much as I am not a Chemist, when July came, I found out that your heart had crystallized to ice cold,
Still,
I was hopeful that our love would be reborn on August,
But, September passed me by, and as October approached, I had to say my goodbyes,
You slowly faded away with October,
And I, I was back at November

She walks toward me, she is royalty,
She hugs me, it's comforting,
We sit and talk, it's beautiful.
Ruth is her name, but her friends call her MWAKSY, she is a tigress.

Almost hours later, the world is still as mundane, but around her, it's all beyond me, every thing feels new, even walking.
I promise myself to try not to write about her, but hours later I twitch eagerly between the sheets.
MWAKSY, I have to write about her, as cliché as it might sound,
MWAKSY, she is this poem's muse

Poet Rays