I'm not in the moment that,
My heart is already stolen.

When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.

Why to wait  for that someone when you have already got you?
Why to find happiness else where when it's already inside you?
Why to be in distraught when yu are still breathing?


We humans always miss to find the infinitesimal sparks
That can light up our lives.

Open your eyes through your heart,
And,
Find those sparks.

I feel like I have lost a piece of myself
I run back the way I came to search for it
But in the end I return empty handed

I lost it

I lost the most important piece of myself
Is that why I no longer feel anything ?
Did I loose my emotions ?

I feel like I am already dead
Just waiting to be taken away
Is it because of that one piece that I lost along the way?

setting down my bags
hand on my back
been pushing on
but i just feel really bad

my hands look unreal
there's too many ways to feel
all i need is a couple days
to hide away and heal

but that's not an option
i'm not allowed to soften
i'm broken up and stumbling
and everybody's just watching

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

you made me feel safe
then you took that away
i didn't know how to be alone
or cope with the pain

you told me it was fine
and i let you be right
now i'm just sad
and cold in the night