i miss you.
i miss those late night texts asking if i was awake.
i miss hearing you play the piano.
i miss the way your hand felt in mine.
i miss you.

i miss the way you joked around with me.
i miss how we always got so close, and i always pulled away.
i regret doing that because now i realize
how much i miss you.

i miss you
and all that you do
and all that you are
and what you will be.

i miss the videos you'd send me
or the thoughts we'd share,
or the stories we'd tell
in times of despair.

i miss the sound of your voice
on a hot sunday night
through the phones speakers
everything felt just so right.

i miss you
and all that you are
and all that i am
regrets leaving you so far.

True gardeners cannot bear a glove
Between the sure touch and the tender root,
Must let their hands grow knotted as they move
With a rough sensitivity about
Under the earth, between the rock and shoot,
Never to bruise or wound the hidden fruit.
And so I watched my mother's hands grow scarred,
She who could heal the wounded plant or friend
With the same vulnerable yet rigorous love;
I minded once to see her beauty gnarled,
But now her truth is given me to live,
As I learn for myself we must be hard
To move among the tender with an open hand,
And to stay sensitive up to the end
Pay with some toughness for a gentle world.

I only know how to write,

A poem for her every night,

My aim is  just to bring her … a small piece of delight,

I don't know if that's sinful, or if it's morally right?
 
All I know is that she holds my heart like a flying kite,

A kite with a long string that she holds so tight,

She lifts it up, pulls down, steers  it left and then right,

Although it's  painful, although  it breaks my heart, 

I feel safe, because I’m sure angels don't know how to bite,

I won't even ask her to let go of me, I won't even fight...

Cause it feels so wonderful, even though she is far away and out of sight,

She's like a sister, yet we barely ever fight,

 Her soul  is light, bright, just  like a morning ray of light,

When my days go darker she's my only source of light,

Whenever she's away, absolotly nothing feels right,

But I know she's busy with a schedule so tight,

Yet,  all I need from her is a mere second  every night,

I know someday our souls will gather,.. if not on Earth, then at a different sight

Or maybe they'll never gather,  or maybe they might!

I can't ask her to love me, I don't have that right!

But all what's importan now, is that she adores what I write,

That's why I promised to write,

A poem for her every single night.  

P.S.

You are  probably saying “Noway it could be him who wrote that!", or, “How could he write stuff like that?”

My Answer:

Because of you, my dear, the spark will, on its own, ignite.

I can’t do it.
You asked me to read,
But I read into.
You asked me to judge,
But I am unfair.
You asked me to help,
But all I want to do is destroy.
It’s because you make me feel,
Like I haven’t felt before.
It’s so cliché,
And I hate you for that.
But I love your presence,
And I love you knowledge.
But I hate how you don’t love me.