I look at you,
All I want to do,
Is to kiss you,
On your cheeks.

All I want to do,
To lay a peck,
On your cheeks,
Its so soft.

To lay a peck,
Its eating me alive,
Its so soft,
I want to kiss you.

Its eating me alive,
That you sit there,
I want to kiss you,
But I cant.

That you sit there,
Facing me,
But I cant,
I cant touch you.

Facing me,
Into your eyes I stare,
I cant touch you,
So you touch me.

Into your eyes I stare,
And you come closer to me,
So you touch me,
And slowly you kiss me on my cheeks.

And you come closer to me,
I need to kiss you,
And slowly you kiss me on my cheeks,
I look at you.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
You had your arms around me,
And mine around yours.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
I did not love you then,
And you, me.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
It was taken very early,
Into our friendship.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
It meant nothing at the time,
But now it does to me.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
Much has changed between us,
Since the time it was took.

I found an old photograph,
Of you and me,
We are now lovers,
And the stars above tell our story.

I have a new photograph,
Of you and me,
Its in my hand,
Its for you and for me,

In this new photograph,
Your arms still around me,
I look up into your eyes,
And I know,
This is where i'm supposed to be.

Today I am a man,
Because you made me a man.

Today I am a man,
Because of what you taught me.

Today I am a man,
Because of your grace and patience.

Today I am a man,
At the price of your sacrifices.

Today I am a man,
Who thanks you when I can,
For everything that you have done for me.

Today I am a man
That has been loved,
And a man that can love.

Today I may not be the perfect man
But I am a man,
Brave,
Powerful,
Kind,
Charming,
And loving.

Today I am still the man I am.
Because of my mother, father and sister.

Today I am a man,
Not the perfect man,
But forevermore,
A man nonetheless.

A storm is coming,
Its coming in the form of a man,
He comes to disrupt,
Whatever peace I have left.

But I will fight this man,
Only because,
This peace I have,
I worked to attain.

But this storm of a man,
Comes in beauty,
He comes with delightful looks,
And he plans to rip away the peace in my heart.

This man,
This strong man,
When he smiles at me,
I melt away in his arms.

But the storm is strong,
And it covers me,
And I am lost again,
The peace I have slowly disappears.

But I scream NO!
I will not lose the peace,
A peace which I have come to love,
Which I have become accustomed to.

This man shakes my love,
This storm shakes my beliefs,
This man has his arm around me,
And I am at peace again.

But what do I tell the peace I already have?
Do I leave it?

This storm in the form of a man,
Has caused me to question my peace.

The sophisticated and beautiful storm.

I am at a crossroads.

On my left is the storm that will take me into new realms,
And in that storm, an unknown man stands,
His hands outreached to receive me,
Behind him is the unknown.

On my right is peace and love,
Amongst all that peace and love is warmth,
A man stands there as well, but a man with a familiar face,
He smiles and ushers me come to him.

So I stand at the crossroad,
Thinking,
Pondering,
Wondering,
Screaming.

The pain is terrible,
The feeling is disgraceful.

But I know I have to choose.
But what will I choose?

So I choose the road ahead of me,
Neither left nor right,
I stumble onto a new road,
And I look on at it,
And I am happy with what I have chosen,
I will create peace and love there,
Wherever this road leads me,
I will begin a storm for myself.

And the two men are no more.

Some love stories end with despair,
Some end with happiness,
Some end with loneliness,
Some end with fireworks.

Some love stories are epic as the next motion picture,
Some are short stories made into a TV movie.

Some love stories are nothing but drama,
Some love stories carry emotion.

Some love stories carry meaning,
Some love stories are physical.

Some stories are mixed up,
Some are laid out like sticks.

Some stories breathe new life,
Some stories live up to old life.

But our love story is different.

Ours began as a seed planted freshly in the soil,
Then we watered it daily with kisses,
We fertilized it every other weekend,
We moved in out into the sunlight,
And we cared for it.

Eventually,
It blossomed.

It blossomed into a lily.
No, a rose.
And on that rose,
We penned down the details,
The details of our love story.

We penned down the day we met,
How we felt,
Where we went,
And what we ate.

I penned down the night I lay in your arms,
Feeling you with me.

And as the sun set and the day drew to a close,
And every petal had been written on,
I placed the rose with our love story back in its vase,
And placed it on our windowsill.

There it will be forever,
There it will live forever,
As a memory of our love story,
And as a lesson for all.

So what was our love story?

It was a short meaningful story,
It was an epic romance,
It was a walk down the beach under the sunset,
It was physical passion.

It was yours,
It was mine,
It was our love story.

If I wrote about my love for you,
It would take 7 years
and 7 volumes to put it altogether.

I could write forever,
And not be done,
Because thats how strong my love is for you,
Immortal and unending.

How could it not be immortal and unending,
You were,
In every way,
My first love.

Penning down my love for you,
Is everything I have ever wanted to do,
And so I do it,
Hoping for some sort of profit,
Knowing that no good can come from this,
Until I tell you this and try not to hiss.

I know that you know that I loved you,
Does that even make sense?
I mean,
I do love you.

So I try to fit this love into a book,
And it would not stop at page one hundred and twenty,
It just went on and on.

Not knowing what to do,
I fell even more in love with you,
Regretted nothing in this time.

I guess I hoped and hoped for some sort of recourse,
But its okay.

People always say,
If you love someone so much, be willing to let them go if it makes them happy.

But what if,
I am not willing?
Until I get a chance to be happy myself,
And what if,
That happiness stems forth
from being with someone I love so much.

So I sit by this tree,
I sit and wait,
Penning this rant on paper,
Staining it with my tears of 7 years of love.

Seven thousand teardrops later,
I cannot think no more,
So I close this book for now,
Volume 7 of my immortal love.



So I will continue to write,
As long as there is love in my heart for you,
As long as you are there in my life for me and with me,
I will write and there will be volumes!
There will be poems!
All to tell you only one thing that I could not tell you with my own lips.

But I will hide them away from you,
Knowing you will not hunt down my poems,
My sonnets,
My vilanelles,
My free verse,
My prose,

If you do,
I pray you do not decipher them
And learn the truth behind them
They will bring shame to me,
Because I did not have it in me,
To tell it to your face,
What I have written in my words.

So pray be,
Leave them alone,
And if you do decipher these,
I leave it entirely to you.

These volumes and years of my love,
they exist to tell you,
That I.Love.You.