It’s a day, a drink, a moment
A thought in the cold
It’s the snow swirling, the ringing laughter
A warm feeling
It’s the joy of a day, a burned tongue
A swirl of colors
It’s moments
A smile, a hug, a group
It’s a thread that weaves through a life
It’s the moments that come together
It’s a full life

Do you reach for me
in the absence of sleep...

letting your fingers
playfully tease the cold
from empty sheets

tracing the indentation left
from another

unwelcome
yet sweetly whispered

Goodnight.

Do your eyes softly focus
not
upon the darkness
but lingering gently over the contours
of ruffled folds
filled with the ache of each new night

without me there

as I do as I always do

when I reach
for

you.

I am writing yet another poem
in my attempt to,
not lure,
but to request for your loving attention.
When I woke up this morning,
I woke up a failure
and I felt dead with every breath I take.
I recognized and realized that
I have so many undeserving help
from people who deserves
so much more from me.
I should not lay here with comfort
but rather with remorse.
With regret.
With hatred.

I feel like I failed in masterminding
most of my relationships,
be it a social one, a formal one,
a normal one, a unique one.
Our one.
I drove around town,
my head spinning much quicker
than my 5-***** rims
and my 16-inch tires.
My thoughts spoke words my tongue could not pronounce.
My tongue locked itself up as though my lips were sealed.
Night seems like days with flashes of lights and images
cutting every cells in my cornea, in my brain.
Images of you.
So bright were your light.

I miss you, let that be known.
I am courageous enough for a stanza or two,
but a coward I am truly, madly, deeply.
But I have a passion for us
for we share one common trait that is rather rare.
But it is rather unfair
that the stairs to your room of hearts
stops halfway.
Because if I were to bare you and expose the nakedness of your soul
you will see yourself transforming into someone you want to be
in the glisten of my tear drop,
because I see you right through like an arrow leaving the bow.
And I know you see me right through like the bow-tie I wear can
never hide from you the nervousness I have behind my sleek tuxedo.
We share this common love for words, our view of life.
We share this unique taste in music, and our unique waste of talent
by only having our poems sit on paper and allow it to rot as the paper
expel from it's expiration date.

We share this weird relationship that we had
that I hope I can have back,
that I hope you want to have it back too.
Nothing is as good a pleasure as having our eyes meet
in a slender of a minute;
or even a second.
But it was enough.

It was more than perfection.

We were perfect. Weren't we?
A mixed *** filled with strange mysterious fervor,
Filled with confused but exciting flavors.
We were a jumbled jar of unconditional affection for each other.
Jumbled and crumbled like a hot *** of chutney.
So shall we try again?
Let's have a taste of what I've wasted,
Let's have our hands stretched out wide,
and just hug it out.
Just you and me,
finally
with nothing to hide.
Let's stop the cold fight.
It's never meant to be.
We are always meant to be.


Have I already said that I miss you?