In a world that fears commitment
you said you'd spend your life with me.
In a world that asks for payment,
you gave your love for free.

Despite the pain of loss, life goes on
in an almost morbid mockery of me.
No matter where I go, I feel I don’t belong
in a place where I stand fixed and everything is moving.

They all said to me:
“Recognize, indeed, she's really
not a thing you need
And abstain from writing things of her
that she will never read.”

Somehow, I still long for the harmony
of our full and beating hearts entwined.
And I wonder if you miss me, reminiscing
of all the times when I could hold your hand in mine.

But I still hold you close to my head
and closer to my heart,
it was always us against the world,
and now we're worlds apart.

You’ve left your fingerprints upon my heart:
Indelible,
and irrevocable.
And not only the prints
but the fingers too;
how they twist and toy with it.
And not just the fingers
but the hands as well,
and they grip and yank and give me hell.
And more than hands,
the arms that hug and hold it tight
unwilling to let it go, but always reaching for something more.

The laundry covered every inch of the floor
Making it impossible to dance
I checked each pocket unable to find what I was looking for
How did this place turn into such a mess?

I dream of a face that I cant quite place
However I feel I've known it once in vivid detail
I exhale long sighs through out the night
Tossing and turning
Yearning for the love I thought I had found
Divided by uncertainty and a distance too profound
Touching my neck where your breath once fell
Swearing to catch faint drifts of your smell
Imprisoned by my perceptions and reveries
I've created this hell with falsified memories

I sit there and know
That I could never
Engage myself in conversations
With these conundrums.

Those who are both human, and
Badly wrapped paper packages,
Filled with so much experience,
Brimming with knowledge which
Is rapidly fleeing through
The holes in the brown paper
Worn by time.

How can I speak to those
Who cannot hear my words in full
So that they must be talked to
Slowly, like
They are children
But that have been through so much
More than I
At the tender age of seventeen
Could even imagine.

How can I speak to these enigmas
Who keep asking me the same questions
But which I cannot talk to
Without being
Disrespectful

Not only towards them
But towards my future
Aged self, who will one day
Be in their position
And who I cannot imagine
Will want to be treated
Like a five year old
At the age of eighty five.

Once upon a time,
You smiled each time I stared into your soul
And told you all the things
That made me want to hold your hand
That very first time.

There was a day,
Not long ago,
When you looked at me with eyes that shined
Like the sun on the sea.

Those eyes made me fall
Deeper and deeper
In love with you.
But that love became locked.
Cold.
Measured.

The love has started fading.
From your side,
As well as mine.
The sparkle of the sea,
Replaced with brick walls
And concrete sidewalks.
The smile,
Transformed into a kitchen counter,
Cluttered with loaves of bread and unopened letters.

The desire to hold your hand in mine
And comfort you as tears roll down
Your once soft cheeks
Has gotten away from me,
Like leaves escaping their branches.
The flowers that once grew inside the cracks of my walls
Have all died
From a lack of being watered,
By the hand that planted them there.