There's nothing more beautiful
than a woman showing love to everyone
          But I curse thy self for believing
       I was special

As a man like me hated the world while my fist are the keys to my door and everything that is locked

I loved you
    Darling I loveD you ...

Time doesn't heal.
And the wound knows it.
Layers gather on the ****
but the damage remains,
hiding itself deep inside
the secret scar

I used to think
you were a miracle.
Now I know.
Sometimes,
even a curse
can disguise itself.

"What do you wanna be when you grow up?"

Only one word comes to mind.

Yours.

I want to be yours.

I want to come home to see your car driving in ahead of me every night, so you can stick your tongue out at me and mock how I arrived there last.

I want to have little reminders of you running about the place making messes, so I can hug them and kiss their chubby little cheeks and can care for when you're away somewhere. At work, perhaps.

I want to wake up next to you in the middle of the night and make pancakes and go to that park nearby you always loved, even if it meant being tired in the morning when we'd have to do it all again with our little munchkins because obviously we wouldn't exclude them from all our fun.

I want to be scolded by you when I forget to go shopping for groceries and for buying the kids donuts without warning and telling them to keep it a secret, even though it would hurt my feelings a little. Because you would never really hurt me.

I want to pretend not to be crying when those kids turn eighteen and are going to college and we find ourselves suddenly living in a house that's too big and lonely once we realise how old we really are.



I want to wake up in the middle of the night and make pancakes and take a stroll in that park nearby you always loved, even if it meant I'd be tired the next day when I'd wake up to a house far too big for one person but filled with enough loving memories to keep me going.




"What do you wanna be when you grow up?" you asked.





"I dunno."



"A writer, maybe."

Call a                          doctor/ plumber/ priest
My heart is               broken/ leaking/ deceased
My life is                   worthless/ so much better/ over
I'm going to              **** myself/ tell your wife/ Dover
How could you         leave me/ not know/ lie?
I hope you                return my stuff/ come back/ die
I'll never                   forget you/ forgive you/ go away
I need                        closure/ a DNA test/ to tell you I'm gay
Your                           face/ crotch/ top of your back
Is                                so beautiful/ lumpy/ unusually slack
Your                           ex/ mother/ best friend from school
Always made me      great coffee/ feel inadequate/ drool
I will                           miss you/ **** you/ stalk you forever
That way we can      be friends/ get away with it/ be together
I'm sorry                   you did this/ I did this /we failed
I promise to               pay you/ dye it back/ get you bailed
Please don't               leave me/ show the Polaroids/ write or call

(*delete as appropriate, just delete it all.....)

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.